Crossfire
by phenocrystian
Summary: [Collab with Yoippari] What happens when a certain soccer player has a bit too much to drink and sleeps with the wrong guy? Well... go read the story... go on... shoo!
1. Chapter One : Black Lust

[**DISCLAIMERS**] : Can we have Ken? *get bricked* Uh, guess not.

[**AUTHORS**] : Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**]

**Yoippari** : *wide eyed and all innocence* Warning? What warning?

**Pheno** : *nods* We're puritans. *gets bricked* OW! Ouch! Damn, what's wrong with these people?

**Yoippari** : *smiles angelically* I'm pure. You're not.

**Pheno** : *sweatdrops* 

I'd just like to give Yoippari, one of the most talented writers I've ever met a monstrous snog for putting up with a loser like me and for being such a wonderful friend and co-writer. *glomp* You're the absolute best, you know that, Yoippari? *squeezes* I had so much fun working with you!

And oh. If you find this chapter boring, the next chapter is going to be a LOT more interesting, I swear. *snickers* Cross my heart and hope to die.

      ****

**- ****CHAPTER ONE -**

Hidaka Ken raced down the spiral staircase and sped down the lobby. 

"Left, right, left, left, right," the mouthpiece crackled. The sound was vague. Faraway.

"Left?" Ken repeated.

"Right."

Ken spun right and smacked his face into the wall.

"Omi!" he yelled, outraged. "You said right!"

"I said: Right, it's left."

Ken flew into a string of curses and took the opposite direction. He was breathing hard by the time he cracked open the knob of the rosewood door and bounded into the dimly lit storage room.

The target. Must find the target. Where was the door to the office?

A low chuckle echoed through the room. Ken froze in his tracks and stared. 

He was not alone.

The tall lanky redhead jumped off the crates and landed gracefully on his feet and Ken involuntarily stepped back. The redhead shadowed his movements and Ken gasped. So fast!

Schuldich prowled around the young member of Weiss, circling him like a shark closing in on its prey.

"So. You're…Siberian." Schuldich snatched the name from the swirling current of thoughts racing through the adrenalin-shot mind of the assassin crouched before him.

Ken's fingers tightened further, claws fully extended from his knuckles.

Schuldich's cold laughter echoed through the dark warehouse. "You don't need to ask, Weiss. I'll give you my name. Gladly."

Ken's thighs tensed as he readied himself for his attack. He didn't have time to waste on this arrogant piece of Schwarz trash.

"Mmmmm…not nice, Siberian," Schuldich chided, picking out Ken's thoughts one by one, moving ever so closer. "Where are your manners, little one?"

A low growl started deep in Ken's throat. 

"Schuldich." Schuldich said pleasantly, as if introducing himself to a friendly acquaintance. "It's only fair to share my name with you before I kill you," he declared matter-of-factly.

Ken lunged at Schuldich, an angry shout accompanying his attack. But Schuldich easily evaded Ken's blind lurch in an effortless twist. Wearing a smug smile. He'd ascertained the assassin's plan even before Ken had formulated the complete thought.

Schuldich spun around, catching Ken roughly by the hair and hauling him up against the brick wall. The stone scraped at his back and he bit back a wince. "You can't win, Siberian." Schuldich smiled into Ken's ear. "Not against me. Not against Schwarz."

Schuldich's laughter echoed through the empty space once more. Vicious, cruel, confident. Schuldich released Ken, shoving him away violently, causing Ken to stumble and fall to his hands and knees.

"I love playing with Weiss," Schuldich sighed nostalgically as he advanced on Ken again. "You aren't much of a challenge..." he cocked his head thoughtfully and brought a hand to his chin, lank red tendrils obscuring the mocking green gaze. "But you try _so hard," he said condescendingly, with the slightest hint of a pout to his lips. He shook his head sadly, disappointed._

"Fuck off, Schwarz," Ken spat, never taking his eyes off the German's. 

"Oooh. Such strong language from the little Weiss pawn." Schuldich drawled.

_Schuldich. The harsh forceful tone forced its way into Schuldich's thoughts._

_Not now, Crawford._

_Why aren't you in position?_

_Schuldich. This time the youthful, biting thoughts of the telekinetic.___

_Schuldich. Crawford again._

Ken caught it. A slight shift in the German's eyes. He could tell that Schuldich's attention was momentarily diverted but as soon as he saw his chance, it was wiped away clean. Schuldich's eyes narrowed. His self-satisfied smile morphed into a malicious sneer.

"No. It's not that easy, Weiss."

Ken swore under his breath. There must be a way to kill this bastard, at least catch him by surprise, so that he could escape, and get on with the mission. 

But how?

"Mmm… good question, Siberian…" Schuldich taunted. "Very good question."

_Schuldich. More insistent. Angry._

_Not now!_

_Get into position. NOW. Nagi is waiting._

Ken saw his opening. He didn't hesitate.

He slammed into Schuldich, forcing the German into the wall, jamming the tips of his razor-sharp knives into the tender, pale flesh of the redhead's slender throat. Drew blood from identical punctured wounds. A thin line of red trickled down smooth alabaster skin, tinting the snow-white fabric in a blushing shade of crimson.

"Yes. It _is that easy, Schwarz," Ken hissed._

Schuldich was taller, but Ken was stronger.

Schuldich could have disabled the assassin with a single thought. Twisting the neuropathways, manipulating the young man's chemistry, inflicting unbearable pain upon his assailant. But he didn't. Because when he ventured deeper into the brain of the man pinning him helpless to the wall, he discovered a mixture of the expected hate swirling in a sea of anger and uncontrollable rage and beneath the blatant fury, the violence, ran an undercurrent of barely checked lust. 

And that intrigued Schuldich.

_Schuldich. Nagi again. __Where are you?_

_Busy._

Schuldich delivered Ken a full-lipped pout. Relaxed. Sultry. Almost flirtatious. A lazy grin without a trace of fear. Smokey green eyes sparkled. Whether from amusement or anticipation, even he himself did not know. Perhaps a little of both. 

He laughed.

Ken faltered, sensed the first wee pinprick of doubt. The laughter was not a bluff, he was certain. Schuldich should have been terrified… at the very least, worried. But he wasn't. He was cool. And calm. And absolutely indifferent to the lethal weapon poised to rip his throat apart. 

Either Schuldich was very sure of his powers, or he had some serious backup on the way.

And to Ken, neither alternative seemed to be a very compromising choice.

"I like the way your mind works, Kenken," Schuldich purred, his voice low. He lingered over the petname with careful deliberance. Toyed with it.

"Shut up," Ken snapped, his patience waning. A thigh rubbed suggestively against the aching juncture between his legs and he tensed, sucked in his breath at the erotic friction it caused.

"Make me," Schuldich challenged in a fierce whisper.

Ken thrust his face into Schuldich's personal space, their noses almost touching, livid.

Schuldich's confidence. Schuldich's easy smile and knowing smirk. Ken wanted to bash his fist into the German's goddamn beautiful face. And he wanted to abuse that angular body. In more ways than one.

"Got a soft spot for me in your heart, little Siberian?" Schuldich mocked, extending his neck forward, forcing the blades to dig deeper into his pale skin. 

Ken wavered. Uncertain, incapable of comprehending the mixed, complicated emotions flitting across his brain. He was furious; he was outraged by his enemy's bizarre behavior. He was almost overconfident, heady with pride at the victory that lay within his grasp as he held the German immobile against the wall. 

Schuldich's wicked smile deepened. His eyes glinted in the darkness as he followed the Weiss pawn's thoughts.

Shame. He felt it, burning in his cheeks. Shame at his body's reaction to this man. His enemy. He fought the thought. It wasn't… he shuddered at the word... lust. It was just adrenaline. The heat of the battle. The thrill of victory. The claiming of blood. His eyes flicked to the dark stain spreading across the neck of his captive. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

Ken was tempted and guilty of being tempted.

His eyes snapped up, locked with Schuldich's. 

Oh god. No. 

Schuldich knew. Knew what he had been thinking. Even if he hadn't allowed the thoughts to fully coalesce, Schuldich knew.  As he stared at the redhead, fury boiled up inside him and a frightening realization slammed into him. Schuldich _knew he had him, had him good.  And the smile, that fucking smile gloated the very fact in his face._

Ken snarled in anger and slammed his ungloved fist into Schuldich's cheek, effectively erasing the goddamn irritating smirk from his vision. Schuldich groaned as Ken landed another hard punch in his washboard abdomen. The German crumpled to the ground and Ken kicked him repeatedly, venting his fury. His anger with Schuldich. With himself. 

"Ken."

Ken froze. Shocked by his berserker rage, by his complete irresponsibility. The mission.

"Hai."

"We're ready."

"Hai."

Ken took one last long look at the unconscious man at his feet, resisted both the overwhelming desire to rip the German's throat out and the contradictory temptation to feel for a pulse. He took off at a full run. 

Never looking back.

**:+: OUTTAKES :+: (The Assassins at the Round Table)**

**Yoippari : Admit it. You love us.**

**Pheno : *bounces* Whee!**

**Ken : And you love me.**

**Yoippari & Pheno : *chorus* Yes, yes, yes! Ken-sama!**

**Yohji : What about me?**

**Yoippari : Oh yeah. No question, Yohji hon. Love you to pieces.  *growls like a kitty***

**Pheno: *slowly scoots away from Yoippari and bounces hyper while pulling on Aya's eartails*  **

**Pheno : *high on caffeine*  Whee!******

**Aya : *irked* Knock it off, you crazy little hentai.**

**Pheno : WHEE!!!**

**Omi : Ash-san, will you please calm down?**

**Pheno : WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! XD**

**Farfello : *fwaps her with a knife hilt***

**Pheno : *drops like a sack of potatoes***

**Aya : *pokes body with katana***

**Yoippari : You've killed her. And now you're stuck in this outtake until she gets up and writes you guys away.**

**Everyone : *moans* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**Yoippari: What do you mean, no? You have ME. *smiles angelically* Love me, worship me.**

**Nagi : *urgently* Schu! Do something!**

**Schuldich : Shut up, I'm listening. *cocks an ear and nods* She thinks she needs to be kissed awake by a certain prince charming.**

**Everyone : *regretfully* Damn, she's fine.**

**Farfello : That would be me.**

**Pheno : *comes back to life miraculously* NO! NO! I'm alive! I'm alive!!!!!!!!! *chibifies due to lack of caffeine***

**Yoippari: *nudges Ash* They never admitted they loved us. They sent Ken in to do that distraction thingy and he does it so well . . . *props her chin on her hand and bats lashes at Ken***

**Aya: *clears throat and sharpens katana* Ahem.**

**Yoippari: *completely ignores him and wraps her arms around Ken's middle with a happy purr of contentment***

**Pheno: *waves distractedly at a fuming Aya, stares at Ken's biceps and squeezes them a couple more times* Aya… could you get me…  *gasps like a beached fish* Could you be a dear and fetch me some more coffee, please? Uh... *topples over and vanishes from the table and the meeting altogether***


	2. Chapter Two : Alcohol and Sex

[**DISCLAIMERS**] : We own Weiss. *get bricked* Ok, we don't. *walk away nursing each others' wounds*

[**AUTHORS**] : Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**] 

Yoippari : Beware, strangers, of fanfucktion.net.

Pheno : *stomps fanfucktion.net* Die! Die!

Yoippari : *sternly* Ash. That's not very nice.

Pheno : *meekly* Gomen nasai, Yoippari-san. *bows head in shame*

Yoippari : You should do _this. *tramples* DIE! DIE!!!!!!! DIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

With thanks to the following people who have taken their time to leave us lovely reviews on their way out. We would also like to add that we do own the Weiss mangas, the anime and OVAs, too, thank you very much. If we're all set, here we go :

Ciphercat, Black Iris, Lady Iron, Karina, Blade.., Pickles, Angela, Lolita, AutumnFire, Sylan, LittleIsa, G, Sakuya, Alyssa, fei, Jade Green, Camille, Siberian, lott

**CHAPTER TWO**

Ken sat on the battered couch, hands between spread knees as he stared blankly at the television. 

Yoji grinned. Despite the heated soccer match tearing up the screen, he could tell that Ken's mind was miles and miles away. He plopped down and stretched his arm out along the back of the sofa behind Ken and asked easily, "Hey. What's up, Ken?"

Still Ken refused to look up. "Nothing. What do you need, Yoji?" he asked in an uncharacteristically weary voice.

Yoji's smile disappeared. "Whoa." He leaned forward, elbows on knees and looked over the young assassin slouching disgruntled and dismayed beside him. "Man… who died?"

A wry smile curved Ken's lips. It didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yoji," he begged, "do you mind? I'm trying to watch the game."

Yoji snorted. "No you aren't."

Ken turned his dark head and teal blue eyes narrowed into twin slits as he made a futile attempt to fix the tall lanky blonde with what he hoped was a menacing glare. "Yes, Yoji. I am."

Yoji snapped up the remote, clicked off the game and tossed it aside. "No you aren't."

Ken sighed dramatically and fell back into the cushions of the sofa, hugging a limp pillow to his chest. "Yoji," he very nearly whined, eyes closed. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?"

The blond smacked Ken purposefully on the kneecap. "I want you to snap out of this."

Ken cracked open one eye. "Snap out of what?"

Yoji raised an elegant eyebrow.

"Oh," Ken said, his voice soft. "I'm just tired. It's been a bad week." Again he closed his eyes and threw a hand over his chest, stretched his athletic legs out in front of him, practically sitting on his spine as he yawned.

Yoji nodded. "I know, Ken. And that's exactly why you are coming with me tonight."

Ken's head rolled to the side, big blue eyes wide and pleading. "Aw, Yoji. Come on…"

Yoji stood up and held out his hand. A friendly offer. A hostile command. 

"Ain't gonna work, kiddo. Move it."

Ken sighed yet again and squeezed his eyes shut once more, praying that if he ignored the pesky blond playboy, he'd just ghost away and leave him alone to wallow in his everlasting misery. Ken took a chance and peeked.

No such luck.

Yoji strolled around to the back of the couch and bent, whispered conspiringly in Ken's ear, "Look, what if I let you wear one of my clubbing shirts…"

Ken sat up abruptly and cast Yoji a look of disgust over his shoulder. It so happened that Yoji was wearing a pair of hip-hugging black leather pants and a blood red mesh shirt. The criss-crossing fabric molded so snugly to his body, he looked as though he'd been poured into them.

Chunky dark boots adorned by shiny buckles.

A spiky dog collar wrapped around his neck.

And dozens of silver chains dangling around his wrists.

Yoji took a step back to grant Ken a full view of his gothic glory and held his hands in front of him in a gesture of supplication. "Okay. One of Aya's shirts then."

"Fuck no!" Ken snapped, horrified.

Yoji laughed long and hard. "Fine, Ken. Wear whatever you want. But don't come complaining to me when you get laughed out of the club."

Ken stood and walked into the kitchen. "That's not going to happen," he said in a resolute tone, shaking his head forcefully as he made a long arm for a clean glass. "Because I'm not going."

Yoji exhaled loudly and leaned against the doorway. 

"Ken." 

Ken poured himself a tall glass of milk.

"Ken."

Ken drank and drank and drank. Downed the contents until the glass was empty and not a single speck of white was to be seen. On impulse, he ran his tongue over the rim.

"Ken."

"What?!" Ken asked, exasperated.

Yoji grinned, eyes cocky and meaningful.

Ken glared daggers at him and set the glass on the counter. 

Glared at Yoji. 

Wiped his mouth with his heel of his hand. 

Glared at Yoji again. 

Yoji was still wearing his obnoxious trademark smirk. 

Ken rolled his eyes in agonized defeat and threw both arms up in exasperation. "Fine," he heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll go for your sake. But," he jabbed a warning finger in Yoji's face. "I am _not changing."_

Yoji laughed and draped an arm around Ken's shoulder. "Fine by me. A little alcohol, a little action, and you're gonna be good as new."

Ken tried to shrug him off. Failed. "Alcohol and sex aren't the answers to everything," he grumbled.

Yoji blinked innocently as they headed out the door. "Yes, they are."

*******

Ken crossed his arms over his chest and leaned deeper into the shadows. He was so _not having a good time. The soccer-loving brunette was over his third beer and firmly on his way to hell._

Yoji had deserted him within five minutes. A pretty blonde had seen to that. So he'd been standing by the entrance for the past half hour wishing he'd brought his bike instead of riding with Yoji.  So he could haul his ass right out of there. 

Like, _now._

The music was deafening. The smoke was filling his lungs to full capacity, threatening to choke him. The people were... Ken glanced around again… strange. For Yoji had brought him to a local goth club. 

A goth club. To cheer him up. 

Yoji's sense of humor was so fucking twisted.

Ken was tired of weird-ass punks with dog collars, blue hair, black lipstick, and far too much leather staring hungrily at him like they were hyenas and he was lunch. He glanced down at his faded tee, his baggy jeans, his worn sneakers. Hell, he looked so normal. So why was everyone staring at _him?_

His attention was momentarily diverted by two gorgeous girls making out heatedly not two feet away. Sure, one of them had shaved part of her dyed green head, and the other one had god knows how many piercings------and those were just the ones he could see. It was unreal and all wrong. But goddamn. Perfect little scantily clad bodies rubbing erotically against each other, tongues and teeth devouring plush lips, hands roaming, groping one another intimately under the blinding lights of the club…

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Well, nice to see you're enjoying yourself," Yoji smirked.

Ken turned and trained his wide-eyed stare at Yoji. "I wasn't... I mean... I didn't... they just..." He babbled senselessly for a few seconds before he realized Yoji was teasing him. He scowled and looked away. "Oh shut up, Yoji."

"Come on!" Yoji grabbed Ken's arm and hauled him towards the dance floor.

Ken tried to dig in his heels. "No! Yoji! Stop!" he shouted over the rampaging music. "Goddammit, Yoji! I said stop!"

Ken wasn't at all surprised when Yoji chose to completely ignore his protests. He hauled Ken up the three short steps to the floor, flung him into the middle of the crowd, and started dancing.

Ken was mortified. 

Petrified.

He just stood there. Bodies slammed into him from all sides. The heat was unbearable. The noise… the smell… Jesus. He just wanted out. He shoved his way back towards the edge of the floor but firm hands grabbed him and pulled him back into the swirling mass of bodies.

"No." Yoji shook his head slowly, green eyes laughing.

Ken's hands balled into fists. "Yoji…" he tried to be heard above the music, his voice promptly drowned out by the screaming notes.

Yoji waved his hand in a beckoning motion above his head, and a cute little redhead with spiked hair instantly appeared out of nowhere. Yoji leaned down and spoke into her ear. The smile never left his face. She dashed away.

Yoji still had a firm grip on Ken's forearm. But at least he wasn't dancing anymore. Thank god. Yoji dancing was… something else. Embarrassing to say the least. Although apparently the female population appreciated it for some weird reason.

The redhead reappeared, two glasses in her hands. Yoji took one from her, gave her a deep kiss, and turned back to Ken. He shoved the drink into Ken's hand. "Here."

Ken just stared at the glass.

Yoji took the other glass from the redhead and downed the plonk in one long swallow. "Damn." He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. 

Ken sniffed delicately at the contents of the glass. Eyed it. 

Skeptical. Suspicious.

"Oh for Christ's sake. Just drink it, Ken," Yoji snapped.

Seeing Yoji alive and still intact, Ken followed Yoji's example, downing the entire glass in one huge gulp. He instantly broke into a fit of coughing. Yoji pounded him on the back. "You okay?" 

Ken hacked twice. Nodded.

_Shit_.

"Now," Yoji pushed Ken back into the crowd. "Go have some fun."

Ken slammed into a tall girl's back. She was clad completely in black, four inch heeled boots and more buckles than he could count, wires at her neck and wrists, black makeup lining her eyes, her lips. She spun around, death evident in her eyes. Then her expression softened as she took in his apologetic gaze. Before he knew what was going on, she had her hands on his waist and was dancing with him. Well, not really with him, since he wasn't moving. But against him.

Then the music changed and Ken was lost. 

The pounding beat slamming into his brain. Thud thud. Thud thud. Thud thud. He knew this song. Nine Inch Nails. God, anything but _this song. His body began to move, responding to hers by pure instinct. His hips shifting more than anything else in a seductive rhythmic sway to the pounding beat of the drums. The strobe flashed across them briefly, and then smoky darkness closed in again. _

Ken was lost.

Schuldich studied him from across the room with immense interest. He had to admit, the little Weiss pawn was extremely tasty. He took a long drag off his cigarette and his eyes narrowed as his gaze followed that young athletic body weaving through the shadows. 

Jesus Christ.

He had his pretty blue eyes screwed shut. Long tanned fingers buried deep within chocolate dark locks. Arms raised and twisting causing the ragged T-shirt to ride up, exposing the merest teasing glimpse of taut abdominal muscles.  Broad shoulders rolled, sneakers flowing over the dance floor as he rocked systematically along the music. Every single gesture met the melody in sync. A little awkward perhaps. But sensual. Almost sweet in his unique clumsy manner.

The German touched his neck and stroked the four small, scabbed wounds acquired in his recent tangle with the Weiss pawn. If he hadn't known better, he'd have regarded the dark-haired youth as another possible prey.

But then again, Ken _was prey._

Schuldich took another pull on his cigarette. He concentrated on the dark-haired assassin, gently slipping into his mind. All he found was chaos. The lyrics to the song rolling through the anarchic consciousness, fragments of old memories… hmmm. This had been Ken-ken's sex song not too long ago. Entrancing.

Schuldich moved closer, pushing past slicked bodies, blocking others' thoughts, focusing only on the dark haired youth so very near. A flash of a tall lanky blonde in the young man's head. A moment of anxiety, quickly swallowed by the arousing touch of his dance partner. 

Schuldich paused. Ah yes. Balinese was here, too, wasn't he... Schuldich cast his thoughts across the room, pinpointing Balinese instantly. Heavily preoccupied by a trashy blonde. No problem.

Ken let the music carry him. He didn't care that he couldn't dance. Didn't care that this song stirred painful feelings within him. Didn't care about anything except the rhythmic beat pounding into his fuzzy, alcohol-soaked brain, the blunt finger pads kneading the hot sweaty flesh in the small of his back. He leaned into the caress. Not caring who was touching him. Not caring why. 

The fingers were skilled and gentle, skimming over pectorals, down his ribs, sliding under his t-shirt across his firm abdomen, nails lightly scoring his skin. He felt a brush of hair against his neck. Hot breath, soft lips. 

He didn't care. Didn't care.

A hand drifted over his torso, drawing long slow patterns down his chest, dipping into the waistband of his jeans. Another found its way to the hem of his shirt. Lifted the thin fabric to bare his stomach and run callused fingers over the smoothness. Inquisitive fingers felt for the hollow of his pelvis, dug into the soft flesh and rotated, grinding trimmed nails against hard bone. 

Ken's breath hitched in his throat. A slow smile curved upon his shoulder. Lips and teeth and tongue devoured his naked flesh and cold dry air enveloped saliva-slicked skin. A thumb dipped into his navel. He clenched his eyes shut, all too aware of the warm palm sliding downwards to press against and cup his throbbing scrotum.

Ken gasped and arched back. Bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

Gods.

He wanted more than just the touch. He wanted the hunger and the heat. Welcomed it. Those hands… those bloody talented hands were making him feel so good… so hot. 

They pulled him close and he felt the firm lean body press up against his back, the distinct maleness of it. Felt the unmistakable hardness between the cleft of his firm buttocks. With a start, Ken jerked forward and ground himself into the inviting palm. Stepped back and his ass came in contact with his partner's arousal once more. He tensed.

Ken was trapped.

"Shhhh…" A heavily-accented whisper in his ear. "Relax. You're doing just fine, Ken-ken…"

 ****

**:+: OUTTAKES :+: (Assassins Weekly)**

Yoippari : *rubs hands together* So today we're here to discuss the title of the story.

Pheno : *nods* Right on.

Schuldich : *strikes a suggestive pose* I hereby declare this fic The Universal Sexbomb.

Ken : *weary* Is that you, or is it me?

Pheno : *excited* What about the Glare Bitch Project?

Aya : *head in hands* Please tell me that _doesn't_ involve me.

Everyone : *snorts in coffee*

Pheno : What about XXX?

Omi : *wide-eyed* Are we here to talk about sex?

Yohji : ASH! YOU DEMENTED LITTLE HENTAI! *covers Omittichi's ears*

Pheno : Grr… Why does everything I say come out wrong? *to Omittichi* Yeah, we're here to hold a group discussion regarding the mysterious wonders of 69. Duh. You're underage.

Brad : Speaking of underage, so are you.

Pheno : O.O; *switches topic* Isn't today a celestial day?

Nagi : Who in his right mind calls a day celestial?

Yoippari : *yawns* Come on, guys. We need something serious. We don't have all day here.

Pheno : *eyes shining* What about Terminator? We can have Ken rip Schu's throat out and Ken can be the robot!

Everyone : *takes ten steps back*

Schuldich : Yoiiparriiiiiii… but wheeeeeen? When can I fuck Ken? I'm the only one who hasn't read the script yet!

Yoippari: *laughs softly* You little hentai, you.

Schuldich: *blinks* What? Why are you laughing? *toys with a cigarette in an extremely suggestive fashion* It's a perfectly legitimate question.

Everyone: *smothers a snicker*

Schuldich: *marches over to Crawford and jams a finger in his face* What? What do you know? What did you see? You had a vision, didn't you? *whines* Bradleeeey, tell meeeee…

Brad: I knew you'd say that. I've seen it coming.

Schuldich : *pouts* Yoippari… you won't make me jack off. That's just plain mean.

Yoippari: *grins* Damn right.

Schuldich : *throws tantrum* Damnit! Just tell me!

Pheno : *hands over a bound and gagged Yotan as bribery*

Schuldich : Hn. If I didn't know better, I'd have believed you'd just read my mind.

Everyone : *packs things to leave*

Ken : What about the title?

Schuldich : *squeaks* I still propose The Ultimate Incredibly Seductive German Hottie Currently Under the Impressive Title of Schuldich Sama.


	3. Chapter Three : Alleycat Tangle

[**DISCLAIMERS**] : Weiss owns us. *get bricked* Damn. Can't we just say something without getting hit for a change?

[**AUTHORS**] : Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**]

_Pheno_ : *monotone* Someone gets fucked.

_Yoippari_ : *solemn* One of the two gets fucked.

_Yoji_ : *wide-eyed* Who gets fucked? Is it me? *checks his rear in the mirror* Do I look okay? Should I change into something more…

_Schuldich_ : *shoves Yoji aside* I get to…

_Ken_ : *fwap* Shut the fuck up.

With thanks to the following people who have taken time to review and made our day. We appreciate it in spades. Please continue to support **Crossfire**! We both committed a lot of time and effort in this. Nice **long** pleasant reviews please! *gets fwapped by Yoippari* Ano, a heartfelt thank you to all of you :  
LittleIsa, blackjack, Siberian, Lolz, Rai chan, fei, Ciphercat, Lady Iron, Karina, AutumnFire, Dreamwalker, Soul Driver, clover, firefly, jenna

**CHAPTER THREE **

Ken spun around at the sound of _that_ voice, fingers automatically curling into a fist around bugnuks that weren't there.

"Omae!" he hissed.

Schuldich's hands clamped tight around Ken's raised wrists. He tugged the firm athletic body of the dark haired youth close. "Ja."

Schuldich's mouth closed hotly on Ken's. Gnawed on clenched lips and licked at the corners of his mouth, coaxing for an entrance. Ken wrenched away and spat contemptuously. 

The German's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Tsk... tsk. None of that now, Weiss. I _know_ what you were thinking a minute ago," he raised his voice to be heard above the pounding beat.

Ken's eyes narrowed in a challenge_. I dare you. I dare you to say it._

The music abruptly changed and Ken was shoved roughly from behind. He flailed and stumbled only to find Schuldich's hands gripping like a vise around his shoulders. Holding him tightly, pulling him close. 

"You were thinking how nice a quick, anonymous fuck would be right now," Schuldich whispered, pressing his mouth against Ken's ear. Schuldich rubbed his long lean body against Ken's.  "And frankly, so was I."

Ken twisted his head away, eyes blazing, even as Schuldich's grip on his shoulders tightened painfully. A kiss on his cheek. A nibble on his ear.

"Fuck off!" Ken shouted angrily as he shoved Schuldich away, his voice rough from the smoke, too loud because of the alcohol. He pushed his way through the crowd. He was tired of this. Tired of the noise, the smells, the lights.

Schuldich was two steps behind him. 

Ken took a wrong turn and found himself heading towards a dark corner instead of the exit. "Shit!" he cursed. He spun around and plowed into the tall German.

Schuldich's hands were in his pockets. A smile played about his lips. Ken involuntarily stepped back, instantly wary.

"I've been watching you all night, Weiss."

Ken sighed and set his jaw. 

"I want you."

Ken's back teeth ground together in impatience.

"Let's play."

Ken pushed past Schuldich, not even dignifying the assassin with a response. It was all mind games with this guy. He knew that. Schuldich was just trying to get under his skin. Fuck with his head.

He heard the soft laughter behind him. "Close, Weiss."

"What?!" Ken snarled angrily. He whirled and faced the irritating redhead. 

Schuldich chuckled again. 

God, he was annoying. 

"You're close, Ken-ken," Schuldich sauntered over to Ken, closing the distance between them once more. "But I want to fuck all of you, not just your _head_." His hand slowly left his pocket and scratched a finger along the zipper of Ken's jeans. Ken flinched. Schuldich laughed yet again.

"Come on, Ken-ken…" Schuldich said in an innocuous tone. "I'm gonna make you feel so good…"

"No," Ken growled. "That will never happen. Never." 

Ken spun and fought tooth and nail through the crowd again. This was too much. He spotted the bar off to his left and made a beeline across the club. 

He downed three shots, straight, consecutively, without a second thought. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned against the bar. Rested his forehead against the heel of his hand. Where the hell was Yoji? 

He desperately wanted out.

Ken scanned the club. No sign of the willowy blonde. 

No sign of the annoying redhead either. 

Not that he was looking.

Ken ordered another shot and a chaser. He swallowed both in quick succession before tossing the bartender a hefty tip and wending his way out of the club. He was well on his path to "drunk" now. He knew it. Could feel the alcohol blurring his thoughts, burning away reality from his brain.

It was good.

It was all good.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he finally spotted the gleaming red bastion of escape – EXIT. He pushed open the heavy door and stumbled into the cool night air. "Thank god," he sighed as he collapsed against the wall. He leaned his back against the cool bricks and took in his surroundings. 

"Shit," he swore.

He was in the fucking alley. He scrambled frantically for the door handle but his fingers closed around empty air. There was no knob on this side. 

"Goddamit."

Ken turned and leaned his temple against the brick wall. "This sucks," he muttered thickly. He didn't belong here. Not just in the alley, but _here_. In this part of town. In this club. His head spun. He'd had way too much to drink, way too fast. 

What had he been thinking?

"You were thinking of me," a voice purred in his ear. 

Ken didn't bother to turn around this time. He knew who it was. 

"Mmm… that's better." Schuldich trailed a moist path down his earlobe with a tongue as his warm hands snaked around Ken's cool body. "I don't know why you bother to fight it. We both know what you want."

Ken pressed his hands against the wall and spread his fingers as a wave of hot lust pulsed through his spine and pooled in his stomach. Schuldich's hands slid across his chest, his abdomen. A palm reached down, flattening snugly against his crotch and caressing with a very pleasurable effect. "Just let it happen."

A kiss against his neck. A hand in his hair. Gentle. Oh so gentle. Fingers combing through sweaty locks, a brush of fingertips against his ear down the side of his neck. Ken's eyes drifted shut.

"Good…" Schuldich breathed against the side of his throat. "So good, you'll see…" Hot lips traced a wet line down his collarbone. Parted.  A moist tongue flicked out to tease the sensitive skin. Ken shuddered at the feel of hands on his knees, climbing the back of his thighs. "Won't hurt at all…"

Quick hands worked at his jeans. As soon as the cool air hit his hips, though, Ken was jerked back to his senses. As much as he could come to his senses in his current inebriated state anyway. 

"No," he hissed. "No."

Schuldich was caught off guard. Ken's thoughts at the present were disorienting, scrambled, alcohol-soaked nonsense, leaving Schuldich completely unprepared for his prey's sudden reactions.

Ken turned, grabbing Schuldich and slamming him up against the wall. "No," he repeated hoarsely. "I told you. That will _never_ happen."

Ken's forearm was pressed tightly against Schuldich's throat, pinning him to the wall. He stared into those calm, calculating eyes without fear. Until he saw the change. The flicker of acknowledgement. The slight smile painting those goddamn luxurious lips.

Panic gripped Ken and he pressed harder, not caring if he crushed the German's windpipe. Hell, he'd be doing the world a favor. But the grin merely widened. Mocking green eyes laughed at him with deep amusement.

"Okay," Schuldich whispered. "We'll do it your way." His hands pushed Ken's jeans off his thighs and expertly worked Ken through his boxers without bothering to tease. Ken jerked backwards, nearly losing his balance. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted at the German. His words were slurred, he knew. He hoped Schuldich hadn't noticed. If he hadn't been so drunk, he would have remembered Schuldich could see right into his little pea brain and dissect his intoxicated thoughts easily. He stooped and reached for his clothes with a blind arm.

Schuldich sighed in exasperation. "Must you make everything so difficult, Ken-ken?" he chided as if he was a mother scolding a stubborn child.

Ken's eyes narrowed and he lunged at the German. Slammed Schuldich against the wall again, half-tripping. "Don't call me that!" he screamed in the German's face. His body was pressed full against the long lean lines of Schuldich's. Before he could fully register their positions, Schuldich's mouth was on his. Licking, sucking, kissing, biting. He felt fingers crawling down his back, sliding down, curving around his ass, pulling him up hard against the taller man's hard erection. 

Schuldich ground himself against Ken, purring into his mouth like a satisfied cat as he devoured the youth. Ken wasn't responding. But he wasn't exactly fighting, either. Schuldich skipped through Ken's jumbled thoughts with almost gleeful delight, sifting through the turmoil, the struggle – stark, sensible reason waging war over raging, hungry desire. 

Heh. Schuldich laughed to himself. 

Desire was winning.

Ken's hands bit into Schuldich's biceps, squeezing painfully as his body came alive. Schuldich could feel the younger man trying to push his conscience aside, forcing reason out of his mind before the ramifications of his actions fully settled into his consciousness. 

Ken's mouth was hot, angry, urgent. Like his thoughts. His kiss was not gentle. Schuldich tasted blood immediately. Ken's teeth were dangerous; they sliced through his lip, scraped along his tongue, grazed the inside of his cheek.

Schuldich groaned at the sudden burst of violent enthusiasm. His hands released Ken and dragged at his own clothing, pulling it away in systematic movements. He winced as he twisted out of his shirt. His ribs were still sore from his last tangle with the little kitty. Rough hands kneaded Schuldich's ass and his animalistic sounds became louder against Ken's mouth.

Ken pulled back.

Schuldich was slowly stroking himself, green feline eyes fixed on Ken's. Ken growled, a mixture of fury and lust. He seized Schuldich by the shoulders, spinning him around. 

"Wait..." Schuldich hissed. He reached down, fished something out of the pocket of the tailored pants crumpled in a heap at his feet. He handed Ken a condom and a small tube of lubricant.

Even completely smashed, Ken thought this odd. He gaped at the two objects in his hand, dumbfounded. Schuldich could almost see the wheels turning, sloshing through the muck in the brunette's brain. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Don't think about it. Just use them," he said, slight annoyance creeping into his voice. 

Ken was in no condition to argue. 

Schuldich felt slippery cool fingers push against him. No. Nothing gentle about this. He shifted, widening his stance, bracing his palms against the wall. He gritted his teeth as Ken shoved a digit deep inside. Another. Then another. "Shiest," he hissed through clenched teeth as he felt the sharp twist of fingers within before Ken's hand pulled away.

Ken's teeth sank into Schuldich's shoulder even as he began to push his cock slowly into that desirable body beneath his hands. He heard the harsh gasp, felt muscles tense, but he didn't stop. Didn't stop until he was deep, deep inside. He felt the soft swipe of hair across his cheek as Schuldich tossed his head back, the German's breathing coming in quick unsteady pants.

He finally released the unbearable pressure on Schuldich's shoulder as he slowly withdrew. Schuldich cried out as Ken rammed into him again. Harder. Faster. His hands moved down but Ken stopped him, covering Schuldich's palms to the wall as he slammed into him, keeping the taller man's hands at 10 and 2. 

Schuldich's hips pushed back against Ken, and he uttered a low growl of frustration. Goddamn it. This wasn't fair. He couldn't even jack off. And the bricks fucking _hurt._ He cursed a blue streak in German, knowing full well the Weiss pawn couldn't understand him. 

Sometimes he really wished he was telekinetic instead of telepathic. 

Ken's breath was hot in his ear. Warm gusts tainted with just the softest moans of lust. Ken's hips rocked against him in time to the pulsing beat emanating through the walls, the pounding rhythm set by the angry music inside. 

Ah but Jesus. The feel of that body against him, that thick cock penetrating his ass, those delicious sounds of pleasure filling the night. Schuldich slipped inside Ken's mind. Ah fuck. The blinding quest for release. The sensual pleasure building inside systematically, layer upon layer, stroke upon stroke. The shivers deep inside. Oh God. It was worth it. 

He felt it. Even as Ken was clawing his way to it, Schuldich felt it building deep inside. Inside himself. Jesus Christ. Ken's nails dug into his hands. Ken's hard cock pumped into him. Ken hips jerked against him. Ken's teeth sunk into his flesh, bruising him. And he felt it. Inside Ken. Inside himself. 

Pain. 

Pleasure. 

Release.

Ken pumped into him with a final convulsive thrust, a harsh cry ripped from his throat. And the orgasm ripped through Schuldich's mind. Jesus Christ. Did the kitten have no mental defenses? Schuldich staggered under the onslaught, Ken's sheer overwhelming physical gratification tearing through his senses. 

Ken collapsed against Schuldich, leaning all his weight against the taller man. A small alteration in their positions, a simple shifting of his weight, one brush against the wall, and Schuldich was pushed over the edge. He gasped, his forehead pressed firmly against the wall, fingers clawing at the mortar as he came.

"Schiest," he whispered again. 

**:+: OUTTAKES :+:**

_Yoippari_ : So… Schu gets fucked.

_Pheno_ : Yes he does.

_Schuldich_ : *nasal whine* Can we talk about something else other than fucking?

_Yoippari & Pheno_ : *exchange a look*

_Yoippari_ : How do you feel about bondage?

_Schuldich_ : *hides between Yoji's legs*

_Yoippari_ : *brings out a leather collar and leash * Don't be scared. We'll be very, very gentle.

_Pheno_ : *pokes with spiked whip* Come on. We're puritans, ne?

_Everyone_ : *turns and looks meaningfully at a bound and gagged Ken in chocolate syrup stashed away in her dresser*

_Aya_ : ASH! SHI-NE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

_Pheno_ : Oops. - -; *switches topic* A few chapters later we have semi non-con…

_Yoippari_ : *fwap* Don't spill the beans, baka!

_Pheno_ : Hn… judging by the rate we're going, Takatori will probably get his turn too. With Aya.

_Aya_ : *yanks katana out of his ass* ASH! SHI-NE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  


p.s. By the way. **My** request. Not Yoippari's idea, mind you. I'm the nasty one. No new chapter until 20 reviews are up. Don't worry. We'll make it worthwhile… so please? R & R?


	4. Chapter Four : Body Banging and Chocolat...

[**AUTHOR'S NOTES (MUST READ!)**]   
One word of attention, everyone.  
_Argh!_ *pulls hair out in frustration* This is _collaboration!_ Which means this fic is written by the wondrous and talented Yoippari-sama and lousy pathetic old me. She did a truckload of writing here so please, please, _please_ don't neglect her! You want this story to continue, right? She needs feedback as much as I do!  
p.s. Check out her fics. **_Rules_** is one of the _best_ fics I've ever had the pleasure to read which results in me nagging her 24/7 into writing this collaboration with me. *worships the great and glorious Yoippari-san* You know a great writer when you read her stuff. Go ahead and read. Shoo!   
And oh. 20 reviews or more AND Yoippari-worshipping pwease or you don't get the next chapter. *dodges rotten eggs* And oh, Yoippari? You don't need to take this out. I still think it's only fair because you did so much work in here. *rib-cracking glomps* You're the best thing that ever happened to me since Ken. *grins*

[**DISCLAIMERS**] : You own Weiss. *bricks you before you can defend yourself*

[**AUTHORS**] : Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**] 

Ken : This chapter contains… *breaks off and points at Ash whose nose is currently buried in a pile of books* Why isn't she talking?

Yoippari : *whispers* Hush. She's studying for her English Literature exam on Macbeth.

Aya : *yells* I don't care! I don't want _her_ here!

Pheno : *points at Aya* Aroint thee, bitch!

Everyone : O.O

Yoippari : Guess she's bitten by the Shakespearean bug, ne?

  __

OMG! *screams and runs around the room pulling her hair out* I forgot to thank you guys when I updated I'm so terrible terribly sorry! With love to:  
vanesse, purity, blue, simone, abstractionist, spleen, pink bunny, newtypeshadow, aquatic comet, Alyssa, clover, Lolz, L;KK, Fel-chan (Wai! *snuggleglomp*), er… you didn't leave a name, Ciphercat, Zeets (*clings like a lifeboat*), Eriol-sama (*screams and throws arms around you* Thanks a _gazillion_!), Siberian, gela, starlight kitty, chibi koneko, jenna__

CHAPTER FOUR 

Ken pressed his cheek against the hot sweaty flesh of Schuldich's neck. Inhaled the sour stench of long-consumed alcohol and smoke. Matted red strands stuck to his heated skin and without so much of a thought, he flicked out his tongue, tasting beads of drying perspiration. 

Tasting sex. 

Tasting Schuldich.

He felt the lanky body shudder beneath him and caught the harsh gasp as the German ground himself against the cold brick wall. Felt Schuldich's insides lock around his soft cock. Felt the light tremors running through the body beneath his. Sweat-sheened skin caressed sweat-sheened skin. Ken's eyes fluttered shut, and he buried his face in the crook of the redhead's neck, cradling Schuldich between his thighs.

Soft sounds of sated sex filled the dark alley. Ken was vaguely aware of the faint moans, the soft whimpers. His mind was blank, drowning still in physical gratification. An elbow jarred his ribs and jolted Ken awake from his dazed state. He groaned as Schuldich pulled away. The shock of cold air hit his cock and he shivered, instantly missing the heat, the slickness.

Limp and spent, emotional and mental defenses blatantly stripped, Ken almost fell if not for Schuldich's arms wrapping around his waist, steadying him on his feet. He slumped against the lean torso, suddenly sapped of strength. Until he felt the hot mouth descend upon his. The aggressive swipe of tongue cleaving his lips open, dabbing the wet cavern of his mouth, demanding response.

God.

God, no.

Ken shoved Schuldich away. Bent. Hunched over and threw up.

Suddenly he felt sick. Ill. Head too muddy to even think straight. His insides rumbled in an extremely unpleasant fashion. Knew he should breathe but couldn't. Knew he should relax but failed. His guts twisted painfully. Thorns on thorns. Vises on vises. Cracked his bones and crushed his ribs, forcing him to keel and vomit again until the best he could offer was dry heaves.

He collapsed on the ground. 

Warm lips pressed against his temple. He felt the smile. The cocky, victorious sneer of triumph. A warm hand curled around his cock and stroked him. Slowly. Seductively. He didn't resist. Couldn't.

Then the searing touch was gone.

It took him minutes, hours perhaps, to still his panicked mind and stagger to unsteady feet. Ken braced himself against the wall. Pushed his greasy hair from his face and swung his gaze around. No sign of the redhead. He focused on the angry pounding of music on the other side of the wall. The rhythm thumped under his hands, sped through his frazzled brain, forcing him to relinquish his iron block against reality and allow the clarity of the situation to flow free.

Shit. 

He was neck-deep in shit. He, Hidaka Ken, of all people had just ass-fucked the infamous slut German.

Damn you, Yoji. Damn you!

Ken spat on the ground, trying to remove the awful taste from his mouth. Vomit and Schuldich. He sneered at himself in disgust. "You deserve what you get Hidaka," he muttered to himself. 

He checked his clothing one more time, pushed his hair out of his eyes, and stumbled around the corner of the building. He pushed his way back into the club, ignoring the burly bouncer's look of abhorrence. 

Once inside, the smells, the sounds, the noise overwhelmed him once more. He felt sick again.

His eyes focused on a small tattoo of a bat at the base of the slender neck of the woman standing next to him. He reached out and touched her arm. "Hey. There a bathroom in here?" he shouted in her ear. 

She turned, fixed him with beautiful, black lined blue eyes. Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Maybe. What's it worth to you?" She tossed her blue dreads audaciously.

Ken sighed and closed his eyes. "What. What do you want?" he asked tiredly.

His eyes snapped open as her deep throaty laugh washed over him. She pulled him close, then spun him around so her chest was pressed against his back. She extended her arm, pointing over his shoulder. "It's over there, honey," she laughed. "You better be careful," she added wryly. "Someone might just take a bite out of an innocent little thing like you. Or worse". 

"Uh… th-thanks," Ken stammered as he made a bee-line for the bathroom. He wasn't quite sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

He pushed open the door, coughed violently as he inhaled a lungful of sweet smoke, and headed for the sink. He twisted the faucet angrily and brought a handful of cold water to his lips. He rinsed his mouth over and over again, willing to give just about anything for a bottle of mouthwash. 

He caught a glimpse of his disheveled reflection in the dirty mirror and paused. 

Or bleach, he thought bitterly.

Ken staggered back into the club without knowing how. Settled into a booth without knowing why. His breath came in short ragged gasps. He sucked in a mouthful of air and choked on bitter rants. Hurled obscenities and insults at everyone in sight. 

"You look like you could use a drink."

Ken opened his mouth, an angry retort on the tip of his tongue. But he paused, turned his wary stare on the girl. Jet-black hair, blue eyes. Full lips painted in a dark purple that, to Ken, strongly resembled the color of a flaring bruise. He studied her black shredded top, her strapless bra, her toned midriff. Despite all the heavy makeup, he could tell that she was beautiful. He snapped his mouth shut, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Beer?" she suggested, hands on hips. Bare hips. Her wrap-around skirt slung low and cut high.

Ken nodded.

*          *          *

Yoji pushed past dancing bodies and peered over spiked heads. Where was Ken? The last he had seen of the soccer-addicted youth, he was on the dance floor with some pretty goth chick clinging to his waist. That was a little over two hours ago. Yoji broke into a scowl.

Suddenly the crowd erupted into cheers. Loud hoots and obscene catcalls. Yoji tried to ignore them.

Where the hell was Ken? 

He resisted the shrieking urge to follow the noise to its source. Screw the crowd. 

Ken. He had to find Ken. 

God knows how clumsy the brunette was. How easy he was to offend. With his sweet naive face and tight ass, Yoji could name a list of endless reasons why half the population in the room would be more than happy to eat poor boy alive.

The cheers grew louder. Damn. Curiosity got the better of him, and he turned to seek out the sudden celebrity. Yoji shouldered a burly, tough-looking guy aside and slipped between two excited, bouncing goth girls. 

His jaw dropped.

He found Ken, all right. Ken was fine. Ken was more than fine. Hell, he'd recognize that worn blue tee a mile away.

A slender frame gyrated through the shadows. Not one. Two. A girl and a Ken. Booted ankles matched sneaker-clad feet as they moved sinuously to the music. The girl was rubbing against Ken. Generous breasts grazed a hard lean chest. She nibbled the tip of her finger sensuously before swiping the digit across Ken's parted lips. He ground himself against her thigh and sucked on her fingers hungrily. Urgent. Hot. Demanding.

It was an Oscar-worthy performance of dirty dancing.

The girl was gorgeous. And she was good. Flawless. Seamless. Definitely a pro. But it was Ken who captured his rapt attention.

Corded arms twisted to the thumping beat. Jean-clad hips swaying seductively to screaming music. Ken's head tipped back, eyes closed. His thick hair delectably tousled, jagged bangs whispering across his face with every movement he made. Yoji drank in every delicious detail of his teammate's disarrayed form. The half-zipped jeans. The loose waistband dipping down to expose his hard pelvis. The firm expanse of sun-tanned skin bared as the pretty goth chick slid her hand over his stomach. He seemed lost. 

Lost in the music. Lost in the feel of warm body rubbing against his own. Lost in his newly acquired audience.

Yoji lingered on the shifting lines of that young lean body. 

Damn. 

Ken was _hot_.

Ken. 

Of all people, it had to be him.

A fresh wave of desire washed over Yoji and he was stunned. What was he thinking? It was _Ken_. Hidaka Ken. Kid-loving, soccer-addicted, over-energetic Ken-ken. 

Fuck.

Dark painted lips latched on Ken's shoulder and Yoji caught the desperate movement of Ken's throat working hard to hold back a moan. Dammit. Yoji's senses were overwhelmed. Excited. Stimulated. Attracted. Like a magnet. 

He wanted Ken. Goddamn. He wanted him _now_. 

And Kudou Yoji never shared.

Ken was startled out of his dreamy trance when a warm hand closed around his wrist, yanking him from the embrace of his current partner. Ken looked up, mildly bewildered, into the smoldering green eyes of his elder teammate.

"Yoji?" he inquired in confusion as the tall blond dragged him off the dance floor.

"Ja ne, Ken-kun! That was fun!" the girl waved after them. "See you later?"

Yoji gave Ken no time to protest or to return the goodbye. He half pulled, half yanked the brunette out of the club. He slid into the driver's seat of the Seven, started the car. Ken was standing beside the open door. 

He looked… lost.

"Just get the fuck in, will you?" Yoji lashed out in impatience. Ken complied and slipped onto the soft leather seat, slowly pulling the door closed. He stared at the dashboard for a moment wondering… wondering if Yoji _knew_. Knew what he had done. 

He turned his head and chanced a quick glance at Yoji.

Yoji was angry. He could see it. See it in the tightness of his jaw. The firm line of his mouth.

Such a sensuous mouth, further pronounced in a near-pout. So kissable. 

Ken immediately looked away. He was blushing. He knew it. Could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. What the hell was wrong with him? It was the girl. That was it. His blood was boiling.  His skin was on fire. She'd worked him into such a… such a…

Suddenly the roar of the engine died.

Yoji didn't move. One hand on the wheel the other on the ignition.

Ken didn't look at him. Couldn't.

"What did you think you were doing, Ken?" Yoji asked softly, his voice tight, strained.

Ken didn't answer. He stared straight ahead. The blush spreading over his skin. He willed it to stop.

Yoji sighed. "I just don't understand, Ken. That… that wasn't like you. I mean you don't… You're not like that." Yoji was quiet for a moment. Then he added gently, "At least I didn't think you were."

Ken's hands tightened into hard fists on his thighs. Of course that wasn't like him. Of course he wasn't like that. Did Yoji think he was proud of what he had done? Did he honestly think that he had planned to do _that_? With… with… _him?_

He heard Yoji swear. "Dammit, Ken. Answer me." Felt Yoji's firm fingers on his chin, pulling his gaze to the angry green eyes boring into his soul.

Ken opened his mouth. But he couldn't speak. He stared into Yoji's eyes and saw the confusion rippling across the emerald depths. Finally, finally he managed to whisper, "I'm sorry."

Shock was evident in Yoji's expression. "You're sorry?" he asked. "You're _sorry_?" He repeated, louder.

Ken dropped his gaze. He wanted to turn his head away, but he just didn't have the strength to fight anymore. Didn't want to fight anymore. "I didn't mean for it to happen, Yoji. I… just… did... I know I'm a fool. I know I'm an embarrassment to you. To Weiss…"

Ken's words were abruptly cut off as Yoji's mouth descended upon his. A long hot, hungry kiss. But still just a teasing taste of Yoji really. Under it all… softness. A slight gentle brush of the tip of his tongue against Ken's lips. Ken could feel something in Yoji's kiss… restraint maybe? He didn't know. Didn't care. As he opened his mouth to Yoji. Inviting him in.

Yoji's tongue plunged deep into his mouth. His hand cradled the back of Ken's head, fingers sliding into thick soft hair. So good. So warm. He didn't want to stop. Never wanted to stop. He heard the soft sound emanating from deep within Ken's throat and roughly broke the kiss. But he didn't let Ken go.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Ken," Yoji whispered against his lips. "Watching you with that girl… oh god…" Yoji groaned. A low desperate sound of want. 

Yoji pulled back and studied Ken. Ken's eyes were dark, unfocused. 

His smile was not.

"Ken?" he asked tentatively.

Ken's smile widened, his eyes unnaturally bright.

Then they rolled to the back of his head and he passed out, tousled head dropping upon Yoji's thighs.

**:+: OUTTAKES :+:** Extra long outtake to compensate for the extra short one last time. Enjoy! (_Weiss Kruez: The Gluhen Edition_)

Ken : *blush* 

Schuldich : *spends thirty seconds running through a complete repertoire of German unpleasantries*

Yoippari : *scolds* Chill out, Schu. You know you want Ken.

Ken : *full-fledged blush* Does anyone mind if I find a hole to burrow in for the time being? *crawls into the cupboard and shuts himself in* Sankyuu.

Pheno : *gets flashbacks of Schu's 'hole', but keeps quiet about it* 

Schuldich : *glares at Ash* I did. I do. But I don't want him like _that!_

Yoippari : *waves absently* We let you have your way with him, you little ingrate of a German.

Yohji : *heads off to wire the goddamn barber who massacred his beautiful hair*

Ken : *flings open the cupboard door* Hiding in a cupboard is totally pointless!

Pheno : ^.^ *pounces Ken*

Ken : *chokes* ACK!

Yoippari : *yells* No! Bad Ash! _Sit!_

Pheno : *sits*

Everyone : O.O

Schuldich : Impressive. Does it come with a leash and collar?

Yoippari : *smacks Schuldich upside the head*

Omi : Where's Yoji-kun?

Aya : *glares* Yoji... has departed… on a noble quest. He seeks… REVENGE.

Yoippari : *snorts*

Pheno : Oh boy. Here we go again. 

Yoji : *saunters in with a giant latte… and a huge red tattoo of a cross on his chest*

Everyone : O.O

Yoji : What?!

Ken : *stares at Yoji's chest* I... uh… thought you were on a noble quest for revenge.

Yoji : Huh?

Crawford: Um, the barber? Hello? Ring a bell?

Yoji : Huh?

Schuldich : *takes his hand off Crawford's ass* Shiest. The barber. You were on a quest to kill your barber. 

Yoji : *blinks* I was?

Schuldich : *tosses his loooooooong red hair over his shoulder* For cutting your hair.. like.. that… *points and snickers*

Yoji : Oh. *blinks* Oh. *eyes narrow* Wait a minute… Are you saying you don't like my new look, carrot top?

Schuldich : *sniffs disdainfully*

Yoippari : *facepalm*

Pheno : *gooses Ken* You, on the other hand, look good enough to eat, soccer boy… 

Ken : Eeeep! *crawls back in the cupboard*

Yoji : *stares into mirror, panicked* Aya? Aya? What's wrong with my hair? Omi? Come on guys… tell me… do I look stupid? 

Yoippari : No you don't. *plops tux hat on Yoji's head* NOW you look stupid.

Ken : ARRRRRRRRRRGH!!! *flies out of cupboard screaming and headbutts into Aya*

Aya : *growls* Shi'ne.

Yoippari & Pheno : *nonchalantly push the kicking, screaming barber back into the cupboard*


	5. Chapter Five : Pit Stop

**Author's Notes…**

[1] Ummm… this is Yoippari. Um… I'm all embarrassed cause of what Ash stuck up there on the front of Chapter 4. So you should know… didn't mean any of that stuff. So just pretend it wasn't there.  If my friends loved me, they'd leave me personal reviews, too (sniff, sniff)… but apparently (sob) they don't (sob sob wail) so I'll just have to live vicariously through the unparalleled talent known as Ash the Amazing Author of Stupendous Smut. So don't stop sending her those wonderful reviews, okay? She deserves them, dontcha think?! 

[2] Uh hi guys, 'tish Ash. Yoippari's being too damn humble coz she writes, like, 100 gazillion times better than I can ever hope to. It's a miracle she's willing to collab with me *clings to Yoippari and cries and cries* Plot forthcoming. After all we can't just have sex in here, ne? So on with the chapter… *glues to Yoippari's arm like a leech*

[**DISCLAIMERS**]

_Yoippari :_ We don't own Weiss.

_Pheno :_ No we don't.

_Yoippari :_ Don't sue us. We're poor.

_Pheno :_ We only have… *digs through pockets* …rusty keys. Um, a quarter. Aspirin. Ooh, a night-time extra long napkin. Tissue paper, the Tempo kind. Pocket lint. And… er… breath mints…

_Yoippari :_ *pops Air Waves into mouth* And minus breath mints. Conclusion : Don't sue us.

[**AUTHORS**] : Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**]

_Yoippari  :_ In this chapter, we have a nice bit of Ken… and Ken's bits.

_Ken :_ *miffed* A little bit of what?

_Pheno :_ *rips off and tosses Ken's underpants into the air* _Whoohoo! _

_Ken  :_ O.O

_Yoippari :_ Hai. There you go. Ken's bits.

**Okay guys, if it wasn't for you this chapter won't be up so fast coz Ash is a sucker for feedback: **Rhys, Silverblade, Jola, Whisper Reilman, Lady Kickass (Ash gives you an extra huge glomp), blackjack, Al, firefly, hey there, abstractionist, Koumori,  Ayako, Lady Iron, chibi koneko (*giggles* Thanks), kami-chan (and Ash GLOMPS you too), Lolz

CHAPTER FIVE

Yoji drove.

A slight shift of warm weight forced him to wrench his attention towards the stoned brunette. 

He stared down at his lap. At the parted swollen mouth. At the dark chopped bangs sweeping across closed eyes. At the eerily feminine long lashes resting upon smooth flushed cheeks.

Ken muttered something incoherent in his sleep and wetted chapped lips with the tip of his tongue. Yoji bit back a groan and trained his eyes on the road. 

_Shit._

He counted ten. Counter counted. An angry horn honked and Yoji spun the wheel, skidded back into his lane, a narrow miss from colliding with a tomato red jeep. He received a salute involving one finger and a popular four-letter expression. Yoji returned the favor without enthusiasm.

Then he felt it.

Warm lips nuzzled him through the constrictions of his skintight pants. The rough friction ignited lust, fanning the dim flickering glow into blazing flames.

Yoji's foot slammed down on brake. 

Time to stop. Yeah. _Definitely_ time for a pit stop.

Ken's head lurched and he buried his face in Yoji's throbbing groin, twin arms twining around his waist like a possessive vine.

"Holy fuck!" 

Cursing a rapid string in Japanese, Yoji slipped his hands under Ken's armpits and made a feeble attempt to tug the brunette to a sitting position. It _so_ didn't work. Ken was heavier than he looked. 

For a freeze frame moment, Yoji's eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated on the sensual shifting of corded muscles beneath warm pliant skin, imagined how it would feel if he could run his palms down that strong, toned chest and washboard abdomen. Cool mouth on hot lips. Soft skin on hard muscles. He was suddenly struck by an overwhelming urge to explore every inch of Ken's firm lean body with eager lips and tongue…

Ken collapsed against Yoji.

… and remind himself once again that Ken was a co-worker and _not_ a potential conquest. Once again he was forced to relinquish his hold on the gleaming trophy hovering not three inches under his nose 24/7.

Wordlessly he took in Ken's disarrayed form. 

Ken lay slumped, his head against Yoji's chest, body sprawled across Yoji's lap, long legs stretched out on the passenger seat at a comfortable angle. He made a soft keening sound in the back of his throat and dabbed a small pink tongue across slightly parted lips.

Yoji groaned, his head falling back. If Ken was going to do _that_ anymore, he was going to toss Ken into the leather backseat, rip open his jeans and fuck his clumsy brains from the inside out. 

With a grunt of effort, he wrapped his hands around Ken's biceps and pulled.

"Come on, Ken," he bit out. "Come _on_." 

Ken moaned in protest. He tossed his dark head and spread his legs ever so slightly. As if Ken's earlier exploits on the dance floor weren't enough, the slow shifting contours of lean hips and narrow waist were very nearly enough to drive Yoji insane. 

Fuck it. Kudou Yoji wasn't one to let once-in-a-lifetime chances slip away.

Fisting a hand in Ken's soft dark hair, he pulled the brunette's face to him and kissed him with an intensity he hadn't possessed in a long time. Ken's mouth was soft, sweet, unresisting. And incredibly erotic.

Erotic? Ken? He licked the corners of the brunette's lips, tasting the lingering flavor of beer and sweat before turning his attention to explore the warm, wet cavern of Ken's partially open mouth.

Oh god. There was no other word for it. He had spent hours… days… admiring the young soccer addict bouncing around the shop. Like that stormy day Ken had dragged himself into the shop after another day of coaching, looking all hot and wet and sexy in his cute little soccer shorts, his face framed in drenched dark locks from the rain. Blinking, shivering, looking like he could use a little body warmth Yoji would have been more than happy to offer. But he'd restrained himself. 

And god knows how hard that was. 

Ken, being Ken, had been completely oblivious.

But that was then. This was now.

Yoji sucked at Ken's neck, devouring the tender flesh with hungry bites and nibbles. Goddamnit but Ken tasted so fucking _good_. Yoji's heart plummeted to his toes as Ken gave another low whimper and slumped bonelessly against Yoji's chest, eyes closed, fingers tangling tightly in the fabric of his bloodred shirt as he pressed his warm body closer.  

Yoji pushed Ken back onto the seat. Nimble fingers set to work and within seconds, Ken's jeans were off his hips and around his ankles.

Yoji slowly trailed one fingertip along the length of Ken's cock.  Ken made a small desperate sound and pushed his hips towards Yoji. A wicked smile played about Yoji's lips at the sound, and he wrapped a hand around Ken cock and pumped slowly, teasing forth another moan from Ken. He looked up and saw the look of open pleasure on the brunette's sweet face and grinned.

_He'd better be dreaming about me and no one else_, Yoji thought as a fresh wave of possessiveness washed over him. He wanted Ken. He wanted Ken to want him. And he wanted to be the only one Ken ever wanted.

That's not too bizarre, he decided, pushing the soft worn cotton of Ken's t-shirt up to his chin exposing hard, muscled flesh, admiring the alluring glow of sun-kissed skin under soft light from isolated street lamps. He pressed his mouth against a small brown nipple and teased the hardening nub with his tongue. Suckling, biting, drowning in the pooling heat in his own groin, feeding on each small shameless moan emitted from deep within the soccer player's throat.

Yoji fisted Ken's cock and swept his thumb over the weeping slit. His eyes never left the jerking hips and heaving chest as he tightened his fingers. With each hard stroke he felt Ken shudder within the firm wet grip of his hand. 

Encouraged by Ken's increasingly desperate moans, he cupped Ken's heavy sacs with his free hand. Long bronzed legs parted, unconsciously allowing Yoji added access to that lovely overheating body.

But it was not enough. He didn't just want to get Ken all hot and bothered, he wanted… _more_.

He released his grip on Ken, and Ken groaned at the loss of sensation. 

"Please…" Ken whispered.

Yoji froze. The single word hung between. He stared hungrily at the athletic, albeit practically unconscious body laid out before him. Oh god. That plea… the drunk, broken baritone practically dripping with carnal lust… 

And all this time, he'd almost regarded Ken as asexual. What with the countless hints he'd dropped over the years. The jokes, the teasing, the sexual innuendo had all sailed right over the brunette's pretty brown head more times than he could count. 

Yoji closed his eyes. This was wrong. On so many levels. Ken was his friend, his coworker, his teammate. 

Hell… Ken was drunk. Ken was more than drunk. Ken was bombed out of his mind. That was bad enough.

But fuck. He _wanted_ Ken. Now. He wanted to bury himself in that tight body. Hear Ken shout his name. Hear Ken scream. 

But he couldn't do that. Despite the overwhelming lust boiling in his blood, he couldn't violate Ken like that. Even if… oh Jesus…

Ken moved again. Whimpered. Reached blindly for hands he knew were nearby.

Goddamit. He _couldn't _do that, but he sure as hell _could_ make Ken scream.

Growling, Yoji locked his fingers around Ken's slender olive wrists and pinned them to his sides. He bent his head, and Ken cried out from the sensual assault. Yoji trailed a long line of kisses over the bronzed tense thighs and sucked at the hollow of his pelvis hungrily, wringing cry after cry from the quivering brunette. Then he fastened his hot mouth on Ken's straining cock.

He wasn't disappointed. Ken arched off the leather seat and thrust once, hard. Mmm… Ken was terribly flexible, wasn't he… Yoji's mind was unceremoniously filled with more dirty thoughts than he imagined possible as Ken's body writhed beneath him. 

Yoji scraped his teeth over sensitive skin and caressed the soft patch of flesh before the flinching hole. He took Ken deep. Sucking hard. Using his tongue and lips to destroy the young man's control. 

It was all over too soon. Ken came with a strangled groan, spurting hot wet semen down Yoji's throat. Yoji casually licked the spent cock clean, feeling it twitch under the experimental probing of his tongue. 

It was a sight that made him smile.

He pulled himself upright and settled back in his seat, casting a sad look at the bulging front of his own leather pants. 

Damn. 

Green eyes were set and thoughtful as Yoji drove home. But as the Seven pulled back into the carpark, he glanced over at Ken, lying sated, still and completely undignified in his car, and he grinned. This was definitely something he could get used to. 

He had always imagined Ken to be sensitive. And now he'd had the chance to be proven right. It had most certainly been a good day.

 A damn fine day if he did say so himself.

Yoji dragged Ken out of the car and practically carried the stoned brunette up the stairs, grunting in wordless complaint. It didn't help that Ken was solidly built and sleeping like the dead. Though he had to admit, a drunk Ken was a delectable temptation. One that he'd very much like to meet again… and again.

After fumbling through Ken's pockets and searching through his leather coat, Yoji shook out the keys to Ken's apartment. He kicked open the door and flipped on the lights, surprised by the neatness of the room. He had always stereotyped jocks as the messy sort. 

Not Ken.

Groaning under the weight, Yoji dragged Ken over to the tidy bed and dropped him on soft white sheets. His fingers drifted across Ken's collarbone, up his neck, along his jaw. Ken turned into the touch, drawn to the warmth. Yoji leaned and pressed a soft kiss to his temple before throwing a quilt over the limp body and sauntering out of door, hands hooked in his pockets, a small smile playing about his lips.

A hot spicy night with little Ken-ken. It wasn't _too_ bizarre. 

Was it?

**:+: OUTTAKES :+: **(Um… more insanity?)

**Pheno :** Gomen ne, this chapter came awfully slow coz I got the writer's block.

**Writer's block :** *waves tentatively* Hi?

**Yoippari :** *yelps* Argh! Get _away_ from me! *flees*

**Everyone :** *applauds beatifically*

**Yoippari :** *yells and points* Why aren't you protecting us??! Bad Weiss! Bad Aya! No Ken-ken sex for you!

**Aya :** O.O *picks up katana in renewed vigor* Writer's block! SHI'NE!

**Yoji :** *flicks lighter and advances Writer's Block menacingly*

**Writer's block :** *hitches her skirts to her knees and scampers down the street* Damnit! What's wrong with you people?

**Pheno :** *picks up pen and exhales* Ah, the beauty of true lust…

**Ken :** *whimpers* Help… help! *looks around and notices a room full of lecherous grins* Help…?

**Yohji :** *snaps* What now? *sets a screaming Writer's Block on fire*

**Ken :** These people… *gestures a grinning Yoippari & Ash* They… they're making me have sex with… with HIM!

**Schuldich :** *smirks*

**Yohji :** Oh dear. That's an absolute disgrace. *slips Yoippari a $50 bill and whispers in her ear* Now when can I have _my_ turn?

_~The next day *dingle* Bell rings…~_

**Ken:** *wearily* Irrashai.... *looks up, sees Schu* FOOOMP! *hits the floor*

**Schuldich:** *stands over Ken and pouts* Well this is no fun.*pokes him with his shoe*

**Aya:** *peers over newspaper* Buy something or _get out._

**Schuldich:** *looks around and frowns* Hmmm. How much for him? *points to Ken*

**Aya:** *glances over newspaper at an unconscious Ken-ken* $20 bucks an hour. $40 if you want the soccer outfit.

**Schuldich:** *peels off a $20, slaps it on the counter, hauls Ken over his shoulder and exits* Ja ne!

**Yoji:** *grumbles* You charged me $50 and _I_ didn't even get the soccer uniform. 

**Aya:** *mutters* Shi'ne.


	6. Chapter Six : The Morning After

[**DISCLAIMERS**]   
**Yoippari**: Phenocrystian and Yoippari own everything. Everything in the entire world.   
**Pheno**: *furious whispering*   
**Yoippari**: Uh wait… oh… really? Hmmm…  Apparently, we don't own anything. *looks around* What about this pencil?  
**Pheno**: *shakes her head sadly*  
**Yoippari**: What about him? *grabs Ken by the collar*  
**Pheno**: *teary-eyed* No.  
**Yoippari**: *frowns* Screw that. *grabs Ken and Pheno and slams the door on the fic police*

[**AUTHORS**] : Yoippari (sama) & Phenocrystian (the great)  
**Pheno** : Yoippari added the last part behind my name. I added something behind hers as well. Just to be fair. And Yoippari wrote almost ALL of this while I was lying in my bed coughing my lungs out. Glomp her. *points* I'll bathe in the sidelight. You'll love the next chapter. I swear. So… you know what to do.

[**WARNINGS**]  
**Yoippari**: Hey everybody… Ash has been really sick. You should all send her flowers and chocolate covered bishonen. Seriously. Shoo. Go on. Uh… hmmm.. I don't think I need to warn you about anything here. Honestly.. I shouldn't have to warn you period because if you've read the first five chapters you already know we're twisted little hentais.  
**Crawford**: "Hentais" is not a word.  
**Yoippari**: Is too.  
**Crawford**: Is not.  
**Yoippari**: *tries to push Crawford out the window*  
**Crawford**: *wicked laugh and stands his ground* I saw that coming.  
**Yoji**: But not this. *shoves Aya into Crawford*  
**Aya and Crawford**: *-.-;;; as they fall twenty stories*   
**Aya**: Hn.  
**Crawford**: That wasn't very nice.  
**Yoippari**: Anyhoo… uh.. hmm.. looks over past warnings… oh! I need to thank reviewers!

*whips out roll call* Karina, Alyssa, blackjack, Siberian, Rhys, Lady Iron, Kami-chan, Jade, Lolz, Sylan, Felicity, Iris-V, Fei (hentai squeal! – go read White!!), fox, frostbite, starlight kitty, newtypeshadow, Camille, and Lott.   
**Everyone**: Hai?  
**Yoippari**: *blushes and toes the ground* Thank you. Now... on to Chapter 6…  
**Ash**: *cough cough* I'm aliiiiiiive… *cough cough* .. sort of… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz… *falls over*

CHAPTER SIX  
  
  
"Ken!!" 

Ken moaned and clutched his head. "Hai…" he groaned as he slunk in through the back door. One more trip and the last of the flowers would be loaded, ready to be delivered by the friendly, neighborhood, completely and totally hung over, florist.

"Ken-kun?" Omi's worried face popped up right in front of Ken's. Ken flinched. And grabbed his head again. Ugh. He needed to remember not to make any sudden movements. 

He leaned his cheek against the cold glass of one of the floral refrigerator doors. Ahhh. His eyes slid shut as the heavenly cold seeped into his skin. 

Or maybe not make any moves _at all_.

"Ken-kun?" A tremulous little voice next to his shoulder.

Oh yeah. Omi. "Hai…" Ken mumbled.

"Ken-kun, you don't look well at all," Ken felt a soft touch, a flutter of fingertips across his forehead. "Maybe you should go back to bed…"

"_Iie_."

Ken flinched at the harshness of the single unsympathetic syllable. He cringed and his hand involuntarily crept to his temple again. 

"But Aya-kun!!!" Omi sputtered. "He's sick!"

"Iie," Aya repeated firmly. 

Omi blinked in surprise. No, Ken wasn't sick? Or no he couldn't go to bed? Aya was so confusing sometimes. Omi followed the taller man out of the back room, giving the oblivious redhead a healthy dose of  "genki Omi reasoning" on Ken's behalf.

Ken shifted position, flattening his palms against the cold glass, trying to convince himself to push his aching head away from the refrigerator and get on with the business of the day's deliveries. 

But he could hear Omi's voice, distant, passionate, ranting away on his poor pathetic behalf. Preoccupying Aya for the time being. Giving him a moment of blessed respite. Ken almost smiled at the younger man's unrestrained mothering tendencies. Almost.

He slowly opened his eyes and stared blindly at the blossoms exploding in a riot of color before him. His mouth a firm, grim line. 

Oh Jesus Christ.

What had he done?

Ken slowly turned around, his back pressed fully against the glass, and slid to the floor. He braced his forearms on his knees, slowly lowered his forehead down to rest on his arms. And took a deep shaky breath. 

He would _not_ throw up again.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and took another unsteady breath.

He'd known. Since the moment he'd literally rolled out of bed this morning and hit the floor with a painful thud. From the moment he'd realized he'd never make it to the trash can, let alone the toilet, in time to avoid vomiting up what little was left in his aching stomach. From the second he'd stepped under that scalding hot water and realized he'd never be able to wash _it_ away. He'd known. 

He'd fucked the enemy. 

He'd betrayed them all. 

He was a complete moron. An idiot. A screw up. A disaster. 

A traitor.

He'd stayed under the water until his skin turned red, until he couldn't feel his toes, until the water turned icy cold and shocked him into action. 

And then… Aya.

Oh dear god. Of all days, why couldn't it be Yoji's day to open the shop with him? Why? Why did it have to be _Aya_?

Ken's head dropped a bit lower between his shoulders, his chin nearly touching his chest. The nausea was passing. 

Aya had known. Known something was up. Ken was pretty sure Aya didn't know exactly _what_ was up. But he'd definitely clued into Ken's guilt. In a heartbeat. 

Oh yeah. And he'd picked up on the whole horrendous hangover from hell thing, too. 

Damn him. 

"I hate Aya..." Ken half moaned, half whimpered.

"Who doesn't?"

Ken's head jerked up. Ooh. Too fast. The back of his head hit the glass door with a sickening thunk. "Ow..." he whispered, voice hoarse.

He slowly cracked open one eye, then the other, and peered up at Yoji. 

Yoji was grinning.

Asshole. 

Ken swore softly and closed his eyes again. "Hate you, too," he grumbled.

He heard Yoji's soft laughter, felt Yoji's hand gently ruffle his hair. He cringed away from the touch. "Ow!" he hissed again.

Yoji laughed. "I didn't even touch you!"

"Yes, you did," Ken moped sulkily, eyes clenched.

A moment of silence passed between them, punctuated only by the more insistent assertions of Omi's relentless sermon form the adjoining room. "Just how much do you remember about last night, Ken-ken?" Yoji asked softly. 

Ken blinked blurrily up at the lanky blonde standing before him who suddenly seemed so very, very tall this morning. "Huh?"

Yoji snorted and tapped a cigarette out of his ever-present pack. "Jesus. I was hoping you'd remember at least something…" Yoji teased.

"I remember..." Ken started defiantly, "lots…" his voice trailed off.

Yoji paused in lighting his cigarette. The flame held before him, hand cupped around it, cigarette dangling from his lip. He quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah." Ken said moodily. He stifled a groan. Why was everyone picking on him today? Why wouldn't they all just leave him alone?

Yoji took a long drag of the cigarette. He blew the smoke up towards the ceiling, away from the young man sulking at his feet. "Such as?"

"I remember the club, the music, the smoke, those… people… dancing…" Ken broke off for a moment. He looked away. 

"That it?" Yoji asked casually.

"No," Ken said irritably. "I remember a lot more than that." He glared at Yoji. "Why do you care?" he spat angrily. Didn't Yoji get it? He didn't want to talk about it. Any of it. 

A sudden epiphany hit Ken right between the eyes. Oh god. Yoji knew. Yoji knew, didn't he? And this whole conversation… Yoji was trying to force him to admit it. Admit what had happened. Last night. At the club... in the alley… with… that German… bastard…

Ken suddenly felt violently ill.

"Whoa. You okay, Ken?" Yoji crouched down before Ken, sitting back on his heels. Shit. He'd pushed it too far. Dammit. He hadn't thought Ken would remember the car ride home. He was pretty far gone… but maybe…

"I'm fine." Ken croaked.

"Yeah right," Yoji muttered. He firmly pushed Ken's head down as far as he could. "Take deep breaths, Ken. Just take deep breaths."

"It would be a lot easier to breathe if you weren't trying to smother me, Yoji," came the muffled reply.

Yoji jerked away. "Sorry." Then he laughed. His casual "this is _so_ not my fault" laugh.

Ken shot him an evil look. 

"C'mon, Ken-ken. Get up." Yoji climbed to his feet and extended a hand to the bleary-eyed youth slumped against the refrigerator.

Ken shook his head slowly from side to side. "Uh uh."

"Come on," Yoji sighed heavily. He reached down and grabbed Ken's bicep and somehow managed to haul the soccer player to his feet. 

Ken grabbed onto Yoji's forearms and swayed unsteadily. "Uh… Yoji? I don't feel so good…"

Yoji laughed again. "No shit."

"No. I mean I really…" Ken lunged for the trash can and just barely made it. He blinked and stared into the bottom of the trash can. How in the hell could there possibly be anything left in his stomach? He coughed and slowly began to slump against the wall. 

"Oh no you don't." Yoji slipped an arm around Ken's chest and hauled him upright. 

"Yoji…" Ken whined. "Come on… Just let me die here…"

Yoji snorted. "I don't think Aya would be too happy with me if I left a stinking corpse on the workroom floor."

Ken flinched. "Aya…" he moaned miserably.

An evil snicker escaped Yoji. "Wish I'd been around to see your happy little reunion this morning."

Ken groaned and buried his face against Yoji's neck. "Please… _don't_ remind me."

"Okay. Enough of this." Yoji pushed Ken upright and guided him towards the stairs. "You're going back to bed."

Ken suddenly tensed and pushed against Yoji. "No, I can't. I have deliveries…"

Yoji arched an eyebrow and gave Ken a look that clearly said, _What? Are you completely stupid?_

_"__I'll_ make the deliveries, Ken."

A relived smile curved Ken's lips. It was such an innocent look of warmth and gratitude…. If he hadn't just tossed his cookies, Yoji definitely would've kissed him. Consequences be damned. 

But Ken apparently completely missed the moment. And in that instant, Yoji was fairly certain Ken remembered a lot less of last night than the hung over idiot thought he did. 

"Thank you, Yoji."

"Yeah. Well… you owe me." 

Ken nodded and began to climb the stairs very, _very_ slowly. Yoji watched him for a moment and then turned to leave. "Dammit," he swore. "Ken…"

Ken stopped on the stairs and peered back over his shoulder. "Huh?" His face fell. "Oh please, Yoji. Please don't say it." Ken closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "_Please_ don't say you have a date and you forgot about it and I really do have to make the deliveries."

Yoji resisted the urge to laugh. "Nooo... I just need the delivery tickets, if you don't mind," he drawled in a condescending voice.

"Oh." A deep flush crept up Ken's pale cheeks. "Ummm… Okay. I just… I don't know…" Ken patted down the pockets on his shirt, dug his hands deep into his khakis. A deep frown creased his brow as he searched his clothing. "I know I had them…"

Yoji sauntered up to Ken and twisted Ken's shoulders so that Ken's back faced him. He stuck his hand deep into Ken's back pocket and pulled out a wad of crumpled delivery tickets, copping a discreet feel as he withdrew his hand.

"Oh." Ken stared blankly at the tickets in Yoji's hand. "Oh," he repeated.

Yep. Oblivious.

"Go back to bed, Ken," Yoji gave Ken a gentle shove and shook his head as he watched the brunette slowly navigate the stairs as if every step sent shock waves of pain through his brain. Ken paused at the top of the stairs and shot Yoji a puzzled look over his shoulder. 

"Yoji… did I… did I kiss somebody last night?" Ken blushed violently. "I mean before we came home… Did I... I remember…" he frowned, trying hard to dredge up the events of the previous night.

Yoji froze. 

"Was it... I think it was…" Ken paused. "…was it that girl?"

Yoji eyed Ken critically for a moment. Then he grinned. "Go to bed, Ken-ken."

Ken stood there a moment longer trying to cling onto the slippery memory before he finally gave up, smiled weakly at Yoji over his shoulder and disappeared upstairs.

Yoji's lips twitched. Yep. Ken had no idea. 

No idea at all. 

**:+: OUTTAKES :+: (Actual Film Footage from the making of Crossfire)**

**Ken**: *leans head back – shattering of glass as refrigerator door shatters* "Owwww…"  
**Yoji**: *dies laughing as he picks up glass shards and deposits them into nearby bin*

**Omi**: "But Aya-kun.. he's sick!"  
**Aya**: *pinches Ken's rear* "You have no idea little man. I'm one sick guy, hear me roar. Rrrroooooooooowr."  
**Ken**: O.O  
**Yoji**: *hysterical laughter*

**Omi**: "But Aya-kun.. he's sick!"  
**Aya**: *pauses* Line?  
**Director**: "Iie."  
**Aya**: Shi-ne?  
**Director**: "Iie."  
**Aya**: Shi-ne?  
**Director**: "Iie."  
**Aya**: *stomps foot* Well then, dammit! If it isn't "Shi-ne" what's the use of the fucking line?  
**Yoji**: *parodies Aya behind his back, stomps his foot and everything*  
**Aya**: *GLARE*  
**Yoippari & Pheno**: *palms up in a parody of being held at gunpoint*  
**Yoippari**: *sticks out tongue*  
**Aya**: Shi'ne.

**Yoji**: "Dammit… Ken…"  
**Ken**: *spins around* "Huh? … Whoa… whoa… aaaaaaaagh!" *topples and falls down the stairs*

**Yoji**: "Dammit… Ken…"  
**Ken**: "Huh? Oh please, Yoji. Please don't say it. _Please_ don't *sings* let the suuun go down on meeeee…"

**Yoji**: "Dammit… Ken…"  
**Ken**: "Oh please, Yoji. Please don't say it. _Please_ don't say you have a date and you forgot about it and I really do have to make the deliveries."  
**Omi**: *perkily* No, he's just late for his STD checkup…  
**Yoji**: *fwaps Omi* Shh, baka!

**Yoji**: "Dammit… Ken…"  
**Ken**: "Oh please, Yoji. Please don't say it. _Please_ don't say you have a date and you forgot about it and I really do have to make the deliveries."  
**Yoji**: *bounds up the stairs and grabs a O.O Ken and dips him* I do have a date. With _you_. *snogs noisily*


	7. Chapter Seven : Sticky Situations

[**DISCLAIMERS**] We don't own Ken. Make us say it again and we'll cry!

[**AUTHORS**] Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**]  
**Yoippari**: I'm messing with Ken's little pea brain…  
**Yoji**: Ken does _not_ have a pea brain.  
**Yoippari**: *gives Yoji a skeptical look*  
**Yoji**: Well… okay, maybe he's not the brightest… *makes a face* Oh, come on!  
**Pheno**: *gives Yoji an amused look*  
**Yoji**: *throws his hands in the air* Fine. If I agree with you, do I get to screw him?  
**Yoippari**: *shifty eyes* Possibly.  
**Yoji**: *with utmost sincerity & feeling* Ken's as dumb as a brick.  
**Pheno**: *waves to readers* Um, gomen ne. Again I've contributed a near zero to this chapter. *hides* Yoippari wrote this all by herself. It's really short but it's my _favorite_ so far. Tell us what you think. *turns and glomps Yoippari*

Um… the thank yous. Right. You wonderful, _wonderful_ reviewers: Lady Iron, kami-chan *glomp*, sho, Lolz, slvrtrinity, Eriol-sama *hug*, curly, fei, pink bunny, fel-chan *GLOMP*, Al, 2948. ellen *blink*, Autumnfire *double blink*, Lady Kickass, newtypeshadow, Ciphercat, Jade *pounce and nuzzle* Oh. And I love Yoippari. *^^*

CHAPTER SEVEN 

It was hot.

God, it was so fucking _hot_.

Ken crouched in the darkness. He adjusted his earpiece, but all he heard was static. 

"Dammit," he muttered. What else could go wrong?

Jesus. It was so hot.

He wanted to take off his leather jacket. Badly. But he didn't know what he was up against. Not yet. And with the com out… well, he probably wouldn't know until the enemy was on top of him. If it were a close range fight, he'd need all the protection the tough leather of his jacket could provide.

But damn. 

Sweat rolled down Ken's back. Trickled down his scalp.

He was on edge. He knew it. Primarily because of the lack of information given during the briefing. Kritiker didn't know who was behind this. If it was Schwarz… if it was… Ken took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "Calm down, Hidaka," he whispered to himself. "He can't fuck with you unless you let him."

Ken winced at his own poor choice of words.

Fuck.

He could hear that nasal voice in his head... _I'm gonna make you feel so good_…

He irritably adjusted the earpiece again. Nothing but static. Godammit. Ken wrenched the tiny device out of his ear and hurled it across the empty darkness. He heard a soft ping as it bounced across the floor. But he couldn't see where it landed. It was dark. Too dark.

Ken moved closer to the door. He was praying this would be over soon. He was roasting. He stumbled over something. Heard a noise. Felt something rush past.

"Shit," he hissed as something wrapped tightly around his forearm. He pulled back, but it was too late. 

…_I'm gonna make you feel _s_o good_…

"No!" Ken snarled into the darkness.

…_So good_…

The restraint around his arm was cutting into the leather, squeezing tighter and tighter as he was pulled closer to his opponent. Fuck! It was too dark. Where the hell was he?

…_Ken-ken_…

"Stop it," Ken hissed angrily. _Get out of my head!_

Laughter. That annoying laughter.

Hands reached for him. 

And despite the unbearable heat of the room, the lips that caressed his neck were hotter. 

Burning. 

"No," he moaned, hands tightening into a fist. But his bugnuks.. his bugnuks wouldn't extend. No. No no no no no. This was _not _happening. "No," he whispered again, terror creeping up through his body like an icy breath.

He heard the soft laugh. Felt the warm breath gust across his skin. "No?"

Ken's mind raced. It was wrong. The voice was all wrong. It wasn't the heavily accented voice he had expected. This voice was all melted butter and honey.

Yoji.

"Yoji?" Ken's own voice was full of confusion.

The deep chuckle again as the tightness around his forearm eased and the harsh sound of the wire retracting cut through the dark silence.

"Yoji…" Ken repeated again.

And then that mouth was on his. Soft at first, gentle, but Ken wanted more. His lips parted, his tongue sliding along Yoji's pliable, sensual lips. 

More.

Ken's mouth opened wider. He fumbled with the zipper at Yoji's throat, dragging it down to Yoji's navel. His hands snaked inside, reaching, touching, caressing bare skin. Yoji's soft sound of encouragement in the darkness.

Oh god. 

More.

Ken's mouth opened wider. He wanted Yoji. More of Yoji. He deepened the kisses even further. Tearing up the inside of his cheek with his own teeth as he forced his tongue deeper into Yoji's mouth. He heard Yoji's long, deep growl of a moan. Felt Yoji's hands slip under his jacket, slide under his t-shirt. Those clever hands, burning his skin, sliding over sweat-slickened flesh, nails scraping gently down his ribs. 

More.

Ken made a noise of frustration as he devoured Yoji's mouth, sucking on that delicious bottom lip, feeling Yoji's lips return the favor to his own upper lip. More. He wanted more. He could feel the desire, the lust welling up from deep inside. Consuming him. Overwhelming his senses. Destroying his willpower. 

His hands stroked down Yoji's taut abdomen, fumbled at Yoji's pants. Goddamit! Ken made another sound of frustration. Why the hell couldn't he get Yoji's pants open? Jesus. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that he shouldn't be worrying nearly so much about Yoji's hip-hugging trousers. In fact, there was something else he should be worrying about… something very important…

But then Yoji's hands were at the waist of _his_ jeans. Tugging. Pulling, Shoving the coarse denim away. 

Fuck.

Yoji's hands pressed against him, and Ken moaned, a low anguished sound of uncontrolled carnal lust. 

Oh God. So good.

More.

Jesus. It was so fucking hot. Ken wanted to take off his coat. Shed the heavy thing. Feel Yoji against his bare skin. But he couldn't get it off. And Yoji wasn't helping. Dammit. _Yoji, help me take off my coat. Why won't you take the damn thing off?_

Yoji's long fingers wrapped around him, pulling, stroking, squeezing. Ken's harsh gasp pulled their mouths apart for a moment. His hands dug into Yoji's hips and his head dropped back.

Oh yes. 

_Yes_.

Ken's mouth fastened on Yoji's again. Hard. Hot. Demanding. His tongue plunged into Yoji's mouth, stroking across Yoji's tongue in rhythmic motions that mirrored the undulation of his hips against Yoji's hand.

More. 

Now.

Ken ground himself against Yoji. Deeper. More. He wanted more. He couldn't breathe. Oh god. It was so hot. Yoji's fist tightened around his cock. Oh god, yes, Yoji. Just like that. Fuck. Yoji worked him. Hard. Fast. Yoji's hot breath burning the sensitive skin under Ken's jaw. Yes, Yoji. Yes. More. Come on. Come _on_, Yoji. 

Oh Jesus Fucking Christ. Ken ground himself fiercely against Yoji, nearly suffocating them both as he dragged Yoji's lips back to his, demanded more from Yoji's mouth. Plunging his tongue deep into the heat of Yoji's mouth, swallowing Yoji's moans. God, yes. Fuck, yes. Ken's fingers dug deep into Yoji's hair. God. Yes. 

More.

_More_.

**_MORE_**.

Ken cried out as he felt his control slip, felt his body convulse, felt the tremendous wave of ecstasy wash through him, spreading down every single nerve in his body from the tips of his toes to the end of his fingers. Fuck. 

Fuck.

_Fuck!_

Ken tossed the heavy blankets aside, gulped in huge heaving gasps of cool air as he sat bolt upright in bed.

"Fuck," he gasped, staring wide-eyed into the darkness of his room.

Abruptly, he clutched frantically at his clothes, stripping them off and tossing them across the room in a frenzy. Then his body went perfectly still, except for the heaving of his chest.

"Fuck," he whispered again.

He collapsed back onto his bed, spread-eagled and stark naked across the sheets, the sweat on his body rapidly evaporating, cooling his overheated skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed the heels of hands over his eyes. Hard.

He did not just dream that.

He did **_not_** just dream that.

"Fuck."

**:+: OUTTAKES :+:   
Yoji**: Uh… I didn't get to screw him.  
**Pheno**: Well you sort of did.  
**Yoji**: *blinks* What?! I wasn't even there!! It was a fucking _dream_!  
**Yoippari**: *snickers*  
**Ken**: *blushes and hides behind the refrigerator*  
**Yoji**: *whirls around, wire drawn* What are _you_ laughing at, bimbo?  
**Yoippari**: *snorts* Bimbo?  
**Yoji**: That's what I said.  
**Pheno**: *tugs on Yoji's sleeve and flashes him her biggest blondest smile* I'm a bimbo, too…  
**Yoji**: *looks at Pheno, bewildered* That wasn't a compliment.  
**Pheno**: *beams* Yes it was. Oh, Yoji. *clasps her hands to her chest and gives a love-struck little sigh* You're _so_ sweet!! *glomps him*  
**Yoji**: *looks around helplessly*  
**Schuldich**: *pulls Yoippari aside* That was nice, mein liebe… What would it take to get one of my own?  
**Yoippari**: What? A wet dream?  
**Schuldich**: *purrrrs* That wasn't just a wet dream, mein liebe. It was sooo much more.  
**Yoippari**: *looks at Schuldich suspiciously* How come all of a sudden I'm "mein liebe"?  
**Pheno**: *bounces over to Schuldich, Yoji in tow* I've got an idea!! Let's make SchuSchu and Yotan do it!  
**Yoji**: *looks Schuldich up and down, scrutinizing him*  
**Schuldich**: *pulls out a tape measure and advances on Yoji's crotch*  
**Aya**: *grumbles* Hn.  
**Crawford**: *nonchalantly pushes Aya out the window and sits down to watch*  
**Ken**: *peeks out from behind the fridge* Psst… Ash. Is it safe to come out now?  
**Yoji**: *pounces Ken*  
**Schuldich**: *pounces both*  
**Pheno**: Oh well, you get the picture. *pounce*

And oh. Another collaboration by the two of us. *insane laughter* You'll have to copy and paste. I personally liked the first and third pics. Yoippari likes Kitty Ken. Heh.  
http://www21.brinkster.com/studioeclipse/kenaya.jpg  
http://www21.brinkster.com/studioeclipse/yojiken.jpg  
http://www21.brinkster.com/studioeclipse/nyah.jpg


	8. Chapter Eight: Pretty Little Flower

**Sidenote from Pheno:** Finally, a chapter after two whole years. This was written long ago. I'm sad to say I've lost contact with Yoippari-san, whom I give my best wishes to and miss a great deal. Thanks for the endless mails even after all this time. Thank you for remembering us. For everything. And leave a review for Yoippari in case she drops by, okay? She's a great writer through and through, and I'm just a tag-a-long cracking dumb jokes. Yeah.

[**DISCLAIMERS**] You know we don't own them, dammit!

[**AUTHORS**] Yoippari & Phenocrystian

[**WARNINGS**]  
**Pheno** : hyperactive bounce Whee! I'm back! hops onto desk and jives to Shindemo-ii  
**Yoippari** : Ash... you're a nut, you know that?  
**Pheno** : bwink Is that a good thing?  
**Yoippari** : nods emphatically It's a good thing. It's a _very_ good thing. aside And I  
thought _Ken_ was stupid...  
**Pheno** : XD Whoo, nut! pokes nut  
**Ken** : whimpers Can anyone _please_ get her hands off me?

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Hell. He'd recognize that shade of orange-red hair and yellow bandanna ten miles away.

Teal blue eyes flared.

"_You!"_ Ken yelled.

Schuldich turned and cocked his head, green eyes bright and quizzical, quirking a languid smirk. _Yes, mein katzchen?_

Ken was stumped. He didn't have anything brilliant to add to his heroic outburst of 'you'.

Okay. So Schuldich was in the shop. Not surprising, since Schuldich was telepathic, he'd probably figured out their location three hundred decades ago. But what the hell was he doing here? And now?

Ken fiddled with his pot of Gentians and tugged at limp brown chunks of chocolate dark hair, fidgeting. He always did that when he was nervous, or tense, or in some situation he couldn't possibly handle. This one was a perfect conglomeration of such.

_Where the hell is Yoji when I most need him here?_

Schuldich smiled pleasantly and hopped atop the table, perching at the edge. "I'd like a pot of the exquisite specimen you're holding, please," he purred, swinging his mile long legs as he tossed long red hair over his shoulder.

Ken's gaze narrowed. Confused. Suspicious.

"Well I'm sorry but this one is not for sale, sir," Ken said politely through clenched teeth, struggling to paste on an equally fake "customer service is number one" smile but failing. His tone was chilled as ice, blue orbs cold and hard, nails digging into the small clay pot as though determined to crack it in two.

Schuldich took in all of this with immense pleasure. Jade green eyes sparkled as he leaned over so that their noses touched.

It took more time to blink.

"Be a dear and get me a new one then, will you?"

Ken merely glared.

"Iie."

Schuldich smirked, sliding a hand in Ken's thick dark hair. Ken cringed at the intimate touch but stood his ground, glaring defiantly, unwilling to back down. Schuldich had a beautiful bow-shaped mouth. He remembered kissing him. Sliding his tongue between pliant lips and invading that warm, wet cavern...

A small twitch on curved lips made Ken pray that the German hadn't picked up that last bit.

"Want more?" Schuldich asked off-handedly.

"Iie." Damn German was probably planting all those erotic thoughts in his head anyway.

"You're no fun," the redhead somehow... Ken nearly rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating... _pouted_. His lower lip jutted out and a flash of hurt flickered across angular features. But it was gone as though it had never been there, instantly replaced by the familiar infuriating smirk accompanied by overflowing self-esteem.

"But Ken-ken, I'm _bored_," Schuldich whined.

Ken's lips tightened in a thin line. "Then go home and fuck your boss," he spat venomously.

"Asshole," he added after a moment of thought.

Schuldich's eyes widened dramatically.

It was unnerving to see so many emotions flitting across the German's face in one go. It made him seem almost human instead of the cold killing machine he was.

"Tch, Ken, I would have thought you had better taste than that! Brad's got a fucking katana up his ass, that bastard." Schuldich's head cocked to the side with a suggestive smile.

Aya's face flashed across Ken's mind. _He didn't mean... no way... he didn't mean that the way it sounded... did he?_ Ken wondered desperately.

Schuldich grinned. "It was hot, the time I caught them going at it." He leered into Ken's slack-jawed face. "Almost as hot as what we did in that alley. Only we got a teensy kinkier."

Schuldich winked.

Ken's earlier defiance swirled down the drain, leaving him a gaping, dumbstruck idiot. "They? _Aya?_ Aya and Crawford? What the... why... and how...?!"

The redhead exhaled, silk red strands whispering over his eyes. "Aw, do we really have to talk about them? I'd rather talk about us, you know." He paused, feigning a moment of serious consideration. "Or not," he said whimsically, making an obscene sign with his hands to demonstrate his point.

"I want to... I want to know."

"Well." Schuldich leaned back and tapped his chin with a slender finger, deliberately dragging out the moment, intensifying Ken's horrified curiosity.

_Spit it out already, you ass_, Ken's own words growled through his mind.

Schuldich grinned yet again. "Well... about three months ago, Fujimiya was abandoned at a bar by Kudou..."

Ken nodded. Typical Yoji behavior.

"... and the purdy redhead was... slightly bored. So he sidled up the bar and tossed back a shot or two."

Ken nodded. Typical Aya behavior.

"Then the stupid redhead got stoned. I mean, completely stoned. Total Dial-a-slut, throwing himself at everyone within spitting distance, singing _Rape Me_ at the top of his lungs."

_Rape Me_? Aya? Ken winced. A pretty picture.

Not.

"... and Brad happened to be there, so he rescued the damsel in distress and they got off in the limo and together they rode the sunset with wedding bells and cheesy music and lived happily ever after," Schuldich proclaimed with a flourish, hands clenched to his chest.

Ken blinked.

"Fuck off," he spat.

_I can't believe I almost fucking bought it!_

"Iie," Schuldich said sweetly.

"I mean it. Get out of here."

Schuldich rolled his eyes. "Ooh, my toes are quivering in quaking fear of your intimidating presence, darling," he drawled, green eyes dancing merrily.

Ken glared. "If you don't leave right this fucking second----"

Warm lips closed on his.

Ken froze as the inquisitive tongue forced his lips apart. He had expected force coming from the German, but the kiss was soft. Gentle and exploring and no less sensual. It felt...

It felt good.

His mouth parted. His eyes slid shut.

He bit Schuldich's lower lip.

Hard.

Their gazes locked. A challenging green. An irritated blue.

_Come on, Ken-ken. You know you want me._

_I don't. I mean, I do. I want it but I don't **want** you._ Laughing green eyes and warm hands dominated his thoughts. But they weren't Schuldich's.

He heard Schuldich's exasperated sigh in his mind and the German pulled back. _Are we swimming around in circles here now? You're saying that you don't want this but you're kissing me. I didn't force you into fucking me back there, either._

Images of that night flooded through Ken's brain.

But Ken met Schuldich's calm leaf-green stare. He had imagined seeing Schuldich again and completely freaking out and making a scene. But from the chat to the kiss to all the serious talk, it left him strangely unmoved.

There were a few questions he'd like to answered though...

Schuldich smirked at him. "I chose you because you're cute. I like my boys with a lovely backside and barbed tongue."

Ken blinked. "Uh... thanks, "he said, not knowing if he should feel resentful or flattered.

_Consider it flattery, Ken-ken._

"O-Okay," Ken mumbled, trying not to blush. There he was, alone and unarmed in the shop with his enemy sitting cross-legged atop the arrangement table making small talk as though they were old acquaintances. An old acquaintance that had tried to eliminate him for more times than he could count, no less.

It wasn't too weird.

Schuldich laughed and jumped off the table. _Make sure you write this down in your Hello Kitty journal, Ken-ken. Never again. Next time I see you, I'm your fucking enemy. Chuck the sentimental feelings out the window. We both found a good lay, that's all._

Ken nodded. His heart felt strangely light. He did not hear the German muttering under his breath as he sauntered out the door.

"Kudou? Kudou and Hidaka? Shit, this is going to be _very_ interesting..."

Yoji was feeling pretty shitty for ditching Ken down there. True he had taken over Ken's shift the day before and Ken fucking deserved to close the shop today alone and allow Yoji his beauty sleep. But then again...

Ken had a reputation of clumsiness to uphold. Cracking twenty pots a day, squashing a bouquet or two under his sneaker, drowning the plants when he was distracted...

Shit.

Yoji made a face and slipped into his jeans. Damn Ken for butting into his private time. Like it wasn't bad enough Ken had been making even more frequent visits to Kudou Fantasyland at night. Moaning, gyrating, arching off the black leather seat.

Damn.

Yoji went down the stairs and slouched into the shop. He opened his mouth to call to Ken, lay a severe guilt trip on the clumsy idiot, but he froze in his tracks at the sight of two figures making out heatedly in the shadows.

It was Ken. _His_ Ken. _His_ Ken wrapped in the arms of a long-haired redhead sitting on the arrangement table. _His_ Ken trapped between the German's long lean legs.

Yoji's hands curled into fists.

His first thought... _danger_.

Second thought... _what the fuck_?

Third thought... _kill Schuldich_.

But then he noticed.

Ken wasn't fighting.

Ken wasn't in danger.

Ken was comfortable.

Ken was enjoying himself.

Godammit.

This was weird.

This was _wrong_. On so many levels. Levels Yoji didn't even want to explore because he knew he would find himself on some of them.

Yoji watched for a few more seconds, then slowly turned and bounded up the stairs.

Angry.

Because all this time he thought Ken was some innocent little angel just waiting to be seduced by his irresistible Kudouness.

He was a fool.

Yoji slammed his bedroom door.

Threw himself down on the bed.

Got up again, cranked up the stereo, cringed at the goddamn happy, poppy, shit pouring out of the speakers and slammed a CD into the tray. Punched play. Glowered out the window.

Ken.

Schuldich.

Ken arching underneath Schuldich. Ken writhing beneath Schuldich's touch. Ken making those deliciously erotic noises at the back of his throat.

For _Schuldich_.

Yoji's hands fisted again. But then he relaxed. The flash of orangy red hair on the sidewalk. The squeal of tires as the white sports car cut off a truck and pulled into traffic.

Schuldich was leaving. Yoji sent him a one-finger goodbye salute.

Well good.

At least they weren't humping on the flower shop floor.

Yoji laughed.

He couldn't help it. The image of anal-retentive Aya walking in on Ken and... _Schuldich_ of all people... it was priceless. Yoji lit a cigarette.

Who was he kidding? Ken and Schuldich? No way. No fucking way.

He frowned as he climbed onto the bed, propped his hands behind his head. And what the hell was with the whole... _thing_ that just happened to him? Where in the hell had that come from? He took another pull off the cigarette. A nagging little thought weaseled its way into his consciousness. He stomped on it like a three-ton elephant.

It hadn't been jealousy.

No way.

Yoji didn't get jealous.

Kudou Yoji did _not_ get jealous.

It was probably... hmmm... rage. At seeing a member of Schwarz daring to step foot in the Weiss stronghold. A member of Schwarz messing with one of Weiss right under their noses. A member of Schwarz trying to infiltrate their organization so boldly.

That's all.

Made perfect sense.

Perfect sense.

Except for the kissing/groping part.

Yoji turned the music up louder and lit another cigarette.

He was **not** jealous.

The music was so incredibly loud. Ken couldn't take it anymore. He knocked on Yoji's door.

No answer.

Ken rapped louder.

No answer.

Ken ground his molars and pounded on the door furiously.

The door slowly creaked open. Yoji lounged in the doorway, shirtless, cigarette casually perched on grinning lips. He raised an eyebrow, expectant.

"Do you mind?" Ken asked irritably.

Yoji's brow creased, and he held up a finger. "Hang on a sec. Can't hear you over the music." He sauntered across the room and turned the stereo down a few notches, so that it was only slightly deafening.

Yoji sprawled out on his bed and looked up. Ken was still standing in the doorway, completely dumbfounded. Yoji distractedly motioned him to come in as he crushed out the last of his cigarette in an ashtray.

Ken slowly entered the room. He paused just inside the doorway. "Yoji..."

"Hmmm? Shut the door, will ya, Ken?"

Ken pushed the door shut and grimaced as he carefully picked his way through the clothes strewn across the floor and made his way over to Yoji.

"Yoji..." Ken paused and cocked his head. Now that he thought about it, this music sounded unsettlingly familiar. It was angry, industrial... screaming music, definitely not his kind of thing. But still... he was sure he'd heard it before. Maybe at the goth club...

Ugh. Ken stifled a shiver. He did not want to think about _that_ night.

"Sit down," Yoji said as he stood up to move a stack of clean shirts to a nearby chair.

Ken sat.

Yoji plopped down on the bed next to him. "It's Das Ich."

"What?" Ken asked, startled. Yoji was close. Very close. His closeness was... distracting.

"Das Ich. You look like you were trying to place the band," Yoji motioned in the general direction of the stereo.

Ken scowled. Dammit. How did Yoji do that? "That was _not_ what I was thinking," he snapped.

"Oh," Yoji shrugged. "Well then..."

Ken sulked for a moment.

But it was difficult to concentrate on sulking with Yoji so very near by. He was incredibly aware of the dip the weight of their bodies caused in the mattress, the way it caused his body to lean ever so slightly towards his teammate's. He could feel the heat of Yoji's body, smell Yoji's soap – or maybe it was his shampoo – didn't matter. The point was it smelled good.

Oh Jesus Christ. Get a grip, Hidaka.

Ken glanced over at Yoji, saw the mischievous gleam in the blonde's eyes. "Am I really that transparent?" he asked tiredly, irritated.

Yoji stifled a laugh. "Nope. Uh uh. Not at all." His lips twitched when Ken's blue eyes cut sharply into his own. Anger. Ken was angry.

How cute.

"You're a sheet of steel Ken. Can't tell what you're thinking at all," Yoji assured him mockingly.

Ken's eyes narrowed. "Oh really?" he sneered. "Well if I'm so goddamn transparent, why don't you tell me what I'm thinking _right now_?"

Yoji leaned close and peered into Ken's eyes, scrutinizing. Ken involuntarily jerked back as Yoji invaded his personal space. But then he caught the satisfied smirk on Yoji's face, and he leaned close again, so close their noses almost touched. Yoji nodded slowly, then leaned back on his elbows. "You're thinking that you'd really like me to kiss you again," Yoji said impudently.

"No! As a matter of fact..." Ken was prepared to argue no matter what words came out of Yoji's mouth, but Yoji's casual comment stopped him cold. He began to sweat. Literally.

He blinked.

He blinked again.

"What?!" he practically shouted.

Yoji grinned. "You want me to kiss you again," he said nonchalantly.

Ken's mouth was open. His lips moved, but no words came out. Finally, he sputtered, "Excuse me?! I don't think so. What the hell are you talking about? I don't want you to..." Ken's eyes glazed over for a split second.

A puzzled look crossed his face, and then his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"AGAIN?! What do you mean _again_? You've kissed me before? When? Come on, Yoji. I think I'd remember if you..." Ken's eyes widened.

"Oh. My. God. It _was_ you," his voice was barely a whisper. "_You!_" he jabbed a finger roughly into Yoji's breastbone. Yoji glanced down at Ken's offending digit, frowned momentarily, then looked up again, aiming a pleasant smile at the quivering brunette.

"You... _you_ were the one I kissed... at the... after the... in the..." Ken stammered as long lost memories raced through his brain and scattered pieces of events fell into place. A deep blush crept over his cheeks. "You... I..." Ken stared mutely at his fingers splayed flat across Yoji's lean chest.

Yoji sat up, wrapping his fingers around Ken's as he did so. A lazy grin played about his lips. If Ken was this flustered at the memory... he doubted Schuldich could have gotten very far with the tasty brunette.

Yoji pulled Ken close in one quick jerk. "Yep," he agreed good-naturedly just before his wicked mouth closed over Ken's in a hot, demanding kiss. He cleaved Ken's lips open and attacked the moist pocket of flesh, coaxing out response, knowing full well that Ken would eventually cave in.

Ken wanted it. Needed it. He just didn't know it. It was entirely up to Yoji to persuade him down the right track... if he played his cards right...

For a long moment Ken struggled futilely against Yoji's iron grip. Yoji was taller, smoother, and ten times faster than Ken could ever hope to be. So it didn't quite come as a surprise when Yoji seized him and flipped him onto his back in one fluid motion.

Ken yelped as his head hit the bed unceremoniously. Air rushed out of his lungs in a low whoosh. He recovered his breath and blinked, looking up hazy and dazed into the looming, grinning and very intimidating face of his teammate.

Ken's heart hammered against his ribs and he swallowed, moistening his suddenly dry throat. He hated to admit it... but this was a view not at all unpleasant to see. He took his time admiring the shifting muscles and angular contours of Yoji's lean torso, momentarily forgetting his earlier defiance as the blonde climbed atop him, straddling him.

The shock of Yoji's groin grinding against his own snapped him back to reality. It was desperate and rough and oh so incredibly erotic. Ken had to bite his lip to keep himself from crying out loud.

Damn. That would have been embarrassing.

But Gods... if Yoji was going to do _that_ again, Ken might very well come in his pants.

That would probably be really embarrassing, too.

He stared up at Yoji, teal eyes glazed over.

Yoji's eyes were smoldering. Predatory. Lustful.

Oh god.

Ken groaned as warm lips closed over the soft curve where neck met shoulder, nipping the tender flesh as though determined in leaving a mark. Which he most probably was. Sharp teeth raked over Ken's skin and a tongue drew small circles over the slowly forming bruise.

It hurt. It hurt and stung like hell but was soothing wetness of Yoji's mouth made it worthwhile...

Another hot kiss and Ken was lost. He kissed back with enthusiasm, momentarily claiming dominance over Yoji. Yoji swallowed a smirk and licked at the comers of Ken's mouth before nipping the brunette's lower lip. He rubbed his palm over the Ken's groin. Encouraged by the soft sounds emanating from the slender column of Ken's tanned throat, he ripped open the baggy jeans and pushed the boxers off Ken's lean hips, enjoying the exposure of long legs and swelling shaft. Ken was already hot and hard.

Yoji scraped freshly trimmed nails along the bronzed inner thighs and Ken moaned. A low, pained sound.

Yoji grinned. Oh yeah. Still sensitive as always.

Ken pushed his hips against Yoji. His eyes were shut. His breath escaping his kiss-bruised lips in sharp ragged pants. Ummm... that was wonderful... absolutely fantastic... Yoji was such a...

Yoji.

**YOJI.**

"_Fuck!"_ Ken exclaimed in a panic-laden voice. He shoved Yoji. Hard.

Ken's sudden retreat caught Yoji completely off guard. Yoji fell back onto the mattress and free from the pinning weight, Ken easily wriggled out from under him. He scrambled off the bed, fell heavily onto the floor, and scooted away from Yoji as fast as he could.

Yoji sat back on his elbows, a bemused smile playing about his entirely too smug lips.

"What... you... I... we..." Ken sputtered as he rapidly rearranged his clothing and dragged himself to his feet.

"Hmmm? What's that, Ken?" Yoji asked lazily, apparently completely unconcerned by the sudden turn of events. He tapped a cigarette out of a nearby pack and placed it between his lips.

"Uh... I..." Ken abruptly backed into the door. He jumped, startled by the sudden obstacle blocking his escape. He reached behind his back and twisted the knob. "I gotta go. 'Night, Yoji," he muttered hastily as he slipped out the door, slamming it shut as he bounded away.

Yoji reached for his lighter, sparked a bright flame. But he never managed to actually light the cigarette.

He was too busy laughing.

**:: OUTTAKES ::  
Yoji** : Ken. Your ass looks _huge_, man.  
**Ken** : peers over shoulder It does?  
**Yoippari** : nods emphatically You should workout more.  
**Yoji** : Naked. peers into Ken's pants O.O Boy. You could be on top you know.  
**Ken** : Really? peers into Yoji's pants  
**Schuldich** : joins Ken  
**Aya** : joins Schu and Ken  
**Pheno** : joins Aya and Schu and Ken  
**Yoji** : beams and preens like a peacock  
**Omi** : Are we talking about sex here?  
**Yoippari** : No, we're talking about exes. rolls eyes Head off to sleep, honey. You're a 12 year old girl.  
**Omi** : I'm not a kid! pouts childishly I have a crossbow... pauses ...and darts.  
**Ken** : Yeah. Made by Fisher Price Toys.  
**Pheno** : WAI! KEN SAMA! pounces  
**Ken** : ACK! God have mercy on me!  
**God** : Nyah. This is fun.  
**Yoippari & Pheno** : chew popcorn and watch _Strafe_ ignoring Ken's tortured screams  
**Yoippari** : Man. God's loud.  
**Pheno** : wonders Does god have a more godly equipment?  
**Yoippari** : makes a mental note to ask Ken later  
**Farf** : comes running out of nowhere Where is He? peers into Ash's pants  
**Everyone **: O.O  
**Yoippari** : Farf! What are you doing? Get out of there. fwaps Farf  
**Farf** : screams They cut it off! They cut it off! There's blood all over!  
**Pheno** : period depression I suck.  
**Yoippari **: You do _not_ suck.  
**Yoji** : pops up out of nowhere Did someone say suck?  
**Pheno **: brightens What about a game of making Aya freak out?  
**Yoji** : tugs at Aya's eartails  
**Aya** : Hn.  
**Yoji** : sticks his hand down Aya's pants  
**Aya** : O.O SHI'NE!  
**Yoji** : Any time, baby. looks over at Ash I won.  
**Pheno** : rips off Aya's orange turtleneck  
**Aya** : Hn.  
**Yoippari** : rips off Aya's pants  
**Aya** : blinks  
**Yoippari & Pheno** : expectant  
**Aya** : I am god.  
**Yoippari** : --;;;  
**Yoji** : Nah. God's bigger. hollers Hey Ken, check this out!  
**Ken** : What?  
**Yoji** : points at Aya That.  
**Ken** : What?  
**Yoji** : That. hands him microscope  
**Ken** : squints into x500 magnifying glass I can't see nothing... Oh _there_ it is!  
**Yoji** : Er, Ken? That's not it.  
**Aya** : Hn.


End file.
